How

How straight the young oak
that dreams of sky-rise.

How turtled- the hot houses,
brow-beaten in the heartbeat of the heat.

How contrived-
the perfect lawns like dime store pictures.

How bobbing-
the tiny birds that speak in peeps.

How serene the cat- curled in woolen sleep.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Create a website or blog at WordPress.com

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: