Today on my walk it felt that the grasses and weeds had sprung a couple of feet since yesterday... It did rain... a lot... but maybe it had something to do with the man on the mower from the Council who cuts trails in the woods at this time of year, swaths bordered by tall grasses. I posted a poem about this a few weeks ago. ( City Parks April 25th..)
Either way I'd fallen down a rabbit hole and without drinking potions or eating cake I felt smaller and the woods grew taller... Hence this wistful little poem.
There's comfort in small
in a world that is tall
asleep in silk butter
cup, flanked by high
nettle-sipping on
cowslip or sweet
meadow- swatting
a dog tail as it
swishes by-
oh to be small
or something that can fly....
Made me think of "Honey I shrunk the Kids!". Love these big ants!
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