Poem: Forecast

 

Forecast

 

bees drift drunk and yellowy.

tadpoles drowse in glazy stream.

even the hummers yaw to stutter, 

a hover of greenish glints 

on a mobile of breeze.

 

the sky itself lounges 

mountainous on bolsters of fleece;

and a jellyfish of willow trees

reclines to wallow mired 

in the azure pond.  nay, nary 

 a drop of rain to disturb

sleepy twigs of lucky clover,

no,

no thunder trembles devils-paintbrushed tufts

of torpor-inebriated moss.

 

if this is some comedy,

noon’s comely rest,

to await charger and prince,

no princess cares 

and none appears.

and yet 

you can almost hear the dandelions

murmurous in abandon,

happy in their escape.

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9/26 ... i don't know

shakespearian theme

4/26 ... not really a message i get, 

7/4/25 mod me up daddy