Talking To Summer
Flooded with poppies too manywith blossoms too red, too lush
I reach for a wrinkled bandanna
to catch the erupting gush.
Like a rabbit chased by a fox
I careen with a summer sneeze
and see in my teary eyes
the green of a thousand trees.
I run on the outdoor path
squish go my new white Keds
too late, I've steped on a poop
my neighbor forgot to scoop.
The gnats and giant mosquitoes
bleed me with every bite.
Will dragonflies come to my rescue
their daiphanous wings in flight?
Poppies, cowpats, bug bites
kick up a loud disturbance
but never as bad as the sleet
or the roar of of a plow on the street.
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