Clatterbomb jays attack peanuts, a fine summer lunch; mine is cold grapes, pinched in umbrella shade; sun sneaks behind my neck. Ant's impossible sideways millimeter march track specks a white chair, where splayed a Maine Coon dreams butterflies. Muted machine gun pressure-wash purr rakes & hisses, a thousand snakes, on & off, most of the day. My neighbor's daughter, ten years old, crawks a creakyswing and forth perfect arc fly and sing, I love my tree I love my tree. |