behind the house, Mr. Moon rests on a hammock all day,
daffodils wave at passerbys, a chickadee
flies east over a pouncing cat bathed in morning light
for a bite with a finch flying
south gathering twigs to build a nest
in a blue gazebo swaying on a piece of twine.
in spring, a crow will enjoy three fresh eggs.
A Namibian man spins in a Chinook, the Royal
has fallen into the bush, I walk inside
to see three shoes scurrying after their socks,
a teaspoon clatters in her cup.
a single blood colored blackberry stains my palm,
the ice cream will melt on the cake
Mr. Moon wakes up just in time
to chase the Sun away.
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