Ant dashes across
Disturbing my mind and thoughts--
So small to do that!
Lines of light outside
Move across my front railing;
Beyond, a sun burst.
Timothy grass grows,
Ready to tickle the nose
Of those who sniff it.
Still, the pine cone rests
Where it's fallen by the road;
Thoughts of winter gone.
Merging with shadows,
And silent as a shadow,
Walker approaches.
Woodpecker on left,
Mourning dove calls on the right;
(I'm in the middle.)
With its hands outstretched,
Trumpet vine calls for the sun;
And the sun responds.
Yellow flowers flow
On the hard gray asphalt--
No boundaries here.
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