Her? She barely had enough sense to get out of the rain, at least…
that’s what her cousin said. 

This morning…
Someone next door is cutting down my favorite brush.
Each spring, I watch forsythia volunteer its blooms
despite the tangle of weeds that lie as if
the dirt itself needed concealing. But I understand…
I understand the importance of pruning to
make room for new growth. Still, I am sorry that the gang 
of neighborhood rabbits has lost a swell vacation home.
Can you imagine a better place to shelter
between sunny days
than a cave of seeded softness with
built-in peepholes and branches for swinging?
I cannot.  

mmm-hmmm, them blackbirds sit on those lines, not doing a damn thing…
‘cept sqwaking while they poop on cars, he thought.