Shortly in gospels of man

The grass fidgets because it waits
on you to make it your bed. Feathers
float like umbrellas to shield the sun
who is a pervert at your window.
Boys lose baseballs so they may
survey the town and tell you hello.
Ants shy underground for they
die if burdened with looking up.
Oats swell because if the wind
is right they smell you going.
It is no pity one night you’ll
disappear from sight and become them:
the odd raven will mourn even.

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~ by Jeremy on January 24, 2011.

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