Sitting on top
of a streetlight
like it is a branch,
sticky-beaking
behind the service hatch
like it is a hollow in a tree,
nibbling on electrical wire
like it is grass seed
& jumping,
jumping
like a farmer’s gun
has just gone off.
Image from Pixabay
A worm
wriggles out
onto the footpath
you wave it away
with your wide-brimmed hat
“wrong way”
you say,”
wrong way”
but as you
bend down
it is as still
as a strand of spaghetti
Image from Pexels
I crunch on a leaf
that spiralled from a tree
that somersaulted down the street
that slept in a doorway
that heard the honks of traffic
that was swept away by a shopkeeper
that was picked up by a woman in a wheelchair
that was passed to a young man with pimples
that he dropped
at my feet
Leaf Litter by Michael Buckingham Gray
Photo of leaf. Taken by Michael Buckingham Gray
is written
on the calendar.
but then I walk
past my daughter’s
old school,
knees clicking.
poking its head
out of the soil
is a paper daisy, saying,
spring,
spring has sprung.
Photo from Pexels by Stuart Robinson
after lunch
in the lull of mid-afternoon
you start cooing…
and
lure me
from the sunlight
into the shadows
into the shadows
of sleep
i pluck weeds
by a white wall
come spring
i move the mower
over a mountain of green
come spring
i brush the rough
old deck clean
come spring
i look up at
all the weeds
growing in the gutter
In response to prompt Spring Has Sprung
black puddle
blower vac
by the bowser
at the petrol station
slick on the surface –
all the water
in the world
unable to wash
it out
droning
driving
black dirt
out onto the road
in front of a white
truck
carrying a load
