Been too long since I posted something. I wrote this one for my Mom on Mother's Day.

I see short grass ripple in the sun
like a million fingers, scratching
the back of an itchy breeze.

I see sparrows fight,
over a window perch
on the barn's shady side,

As they chase each other
in orbits more tangled than a cloud
of flies over a pile of manure.

I see long arms of trees
trying to greet each other, but
their hands never meet in the wind.

From the collapsed chicken coop,
I hear wanderlust gurgles of an unseen brook
through tangles of wood, wire, and grass.

I see clouds sliding like biscuits
across a blue plate as the grass
ripples in the breeze again.

This time like an invisible
knife, spreading excess
butter off the blade.