it's only a hungry seventeen foot pony
shoved his inquisitive head through the second story landing's open window....
there....
see that hay/those apples?
...
living in reverence...with a degree of vigor...
a splish, if not a splash...
counting and recounting,
predicated
...
in it? ...
of course.....
an internal rhythm... an external one or five..or thirteen....
and, no...
...
up close and versenal
slink, periscope, to curse'n'all
to feel the surge, the lessening
the whip'n'stitch of blessening
...
trying so hard....to hide
behind the right plants, clipped. groomed to perfection......not one a whimsical topiary...
controlled...their health and conformation a must....they've been told....and must obey.....they cower, upright and dutiful....no leaf out of place...ever...
the on site sibling quilts....perfectly.....would a pricked finger have bled.....?
...
finds
comfort and sustenance....
feeds
on
...
eye doll a tree
up
with shy knee
good ease
...