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Swept up by a startling, single marsh
surrounding my humbled lot
A sweet and sour bomb departs
On the tip of my spinning thought.
An airport hides beyond my sight
Where jets swirl burly flights
Daring to spike the geese parade
Disrupting the still of night.
Music comes from little dwellers
That occupy the mud
Through rhythmic, soft and scented wind
To crescendo and mocking thud.
A sunbeam rides the rippled water
And winks as it runs on by
The tall grass suffers a brutal breeze
Yet protrudes to a lofty height.
Hickory hints Fall's smoldering chimney
And loitering ducks keep pace
The birds contribute their harmony
While seagulls seem out of place.
Such harmony should a legacy be
To all who roam and till
A cat begins to run from me
But stays of its own free will.
A bicycle peeks from beneath high tide
A child was here at play
Puffy, beige spears of skinny grass
Spread wide to point the way.
Furry turfs of wet lowland
Do hug water's slippery prance
A rustic color of distant trees
Contrasts lone, baron branch.
Flowers remain in pending foe
Of winter's freezing dew
While jet's white smoke leaves writing trails
For a much inquisitive few.
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