Syncopated Summer

The perched hummingbird scratches with his fine toe

A spot just above his eye; turn of the head: Ah. Just so.

Then off to crush his enemy, that other hummer,

And knock a nuthatch off a branch for good measure.

In a swift turn of events, a fig beetle wins the battle

Over the mulch for a burrow, while the kangaroo paw

Decides to continue blooming indefinitely, impossibly.

A young crow wags the power line like a jump rope—-rough

Landing—-and two lemon-yellow butterflies joust over

Said kangaroo paw (pink), presumably in dispute for

The right to make more lemon-yellow butterflies.

The red squirrels can’t decide who rules the coral tree.

Barbaric, yes: All this going in wakes and wakes of tragedies,

So many tiny victories, defeats. Struggle itself, a matter of scale.


Green is the prime color of the world, and that from which its loveliness arises. Pedro Calderon de la Barca
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Happy Sunday

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