This is a morning for chocolate,
for the sun’s kiss tingling smooth-slick skin
and robins, contented in their rich song.
Crack the window for the unforgettable smell
of line-dried sheets and a touch of rain
on the chaos-wild garden.
This is a morning for cow-plops,
horse-doovers in the tall meadow grass,
and bluebottle flies all a-buzz.
Somewhere, freckled kids laugh
along a barbed-wire fence, tickle-grass
and dirt roads their new mother.
May 28, 2009