A plane and some crows
Fill up the morning air;
(And, of course, the bugs).
Leaning against the fence
Last year's grass is this year's hay.
But it's still rooted.
By bubbling stream
Small grove of yellow flowers;
Only the stream speaks.
Sparkling on the lawn,
Kaleidoscope soccer ball;
A rainbow of kicks.
All of a sudden
White flowers burst on the trees
Nodding at the breeze.
Woodpecker hammers,
Deliberate "tap-a-tap";
Far morning dove coos.
Mouths in tree trunks,
Fish stare from the living wood;
Life in strange places.
Fat bushes rustle,
They shake and quiver dryly--
Three small birds fly out.
Talking to myself
Bug finds its way down my throat;
Yichh! Keep my mouth shut!
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