Four thousand grasshoppers are having a summer festival around my blanket on the lawn
among the clover flowers that the rabbits eat,
the rabbits who reside under the porch,
the pinwheel spins its antiqued double wheel like a memory of winter fading
cold sunlight makes yellow and blue prevalent.
I am a computer grass shopper.
I sample the blades with my toes,
bumble bee in my basket,
a Florida license plate shoved in the garden against the fence is a milestone marker.
I taste the air full of fire engine sirens.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment