Two birds connect eyes but face their silent, sunny chests
North and west.
Love is a game always lost before it is won.
Fireflies flutter above the darkening green in erratic loops
And swirling swoops;
Always within reach, as old friends should be.
A wave rolling and ripping, above the ocean floors
And ancient shores,
Stacks upon the remnants of the last, as generations do.
Lilies rock and sway by the farm whether in bliss or alarm
Arm in arm.
Heartbeats of sympathy, from any kind soul, emanate from family.
A flock of ducks collides against the side of a home
And plummets like stones,
Humor is the humbled nakedness of emotion made public
The beagle lifts his cheek and squints at the swimming dust
"Wake Master" he must
A morning is ever sunnier after a long night of rest
The monarch butterfly's body lays spent, twitching its last wing,
Poor heavenly thing,
For all great spectacles are too precious to live long.
