the heat is unbearable
but not like the cold,
without the chance to
gather my bed
for a long slumber

this meal tastes like
ice and poison,
why would they
eat this junk?
then again
maybe they don’t

just a little higher,
i can totally reach
the brim
where the small heads
look on with glee

i wouldn’t hurt anyone,
and i forgive all the
voyeurs
for sacrificing their
time to watch me
survive

i just want to
go home

early lambs
for prune cobbles
on fallen leaves

canary whisper
for pink pebbles
on hills of June

fog nettle
for early bees leap
on stolen primrose

harvest song
for early pebbles
on monsoon daze

talons haze
for crisp frost roots
on bells of shores

snow derby
amble on early frogs
for lagoon of whisks

frost squeak
for early white tadpoles
on leaves of oranges

crocus mist
jump on snow pulps
for early zebras