NO LONGER

No longer a stranger
to the framed hour
in a ferment of words
from my painted language
at this gated
Cape Cod village
amid the indolence
of a snow shower
watching the sky
by the tall dune meadow
now playing tunes
on my soprano sax
in my once scorched mouth
on the back porch
trying to relax as I watch
a slow flight of blackbirds
as castaways range
in the hidden unnamed furrow
will migrate to the South.