nibbling away at your sanity
Among the shaded weeds.
It sits, eyeing us.
Is how you take it.
Mine, I like it in the morning.
Cleverly multiply infolded and placed.
Then colored by experts with delicious finger control.
Quietly waiting.
As I walked by.
Hiding in the shadows.
Glowing from within.
Makes you drier.
As it intensifies.
Sits on a branch. Waiting.
For me to say something intelligent.
Spring. I miss it.
Every August.
Straining left, searching.
For something, but for what?
A gathering of the like-minded.
Even if they have no self-consciousness.
Is something you miss when.
You're up to your ears in bees.
Is a matter of taste.
This will do for today.
Which don't ring.
Are quieter, in the main.
Is not present in every life.
Which is good, or we'd all be too happy.
Is a town in Arkansas.
And sometimes is only that.
Hope Springs Eternal. Said the sign.
Over the Hope Springs mortuary.
Now I'll remember your name.
Whenever I see it spilled on the path.
Not lost in the red.
And still eye-catching.
Standing in bunches, waiting around.
Looking for something. Then I walk by.
That sound. Exuberant flowers.
Silently exploding along the walkway.
First they sense you nearby.
Then they turn down the lights.
Anne was out for a walk.
When nothing happened. To her.
Makes me droop.
And glow bright red.
Are reaching out for me.
As I walk by.
Blossoms moon quietly.
While background pods poke at the sky.
No matter how long I stand there and listen.
They don't say anything I can understand.