Spring Pathways Poem by Mark Heathcote

I love seeing-
waving at Death, the common toad entering the road
sat there, resting like it was on some royal commode.
I love seeing that army of red ants in their troops-
and those little white mayflies in their aerial loops.

Forget being the first man in space or on the moon.
I'd rather have my lover lay on my breast, entombed.
Forget being the first to leave footprints in the snow.
I love being the first to weave through a spring meadow.

I love making clouds of pollen as I run ahead-
looking back, watching those tall grass wands as I sped.
I love huge, brown, sideways dragonflies flying boundless.
I love making flowerbeds-switchblade in their prowess.