The Summer Hedonist Poem by Sheena Blackhall
The Summer Hedonist
I am the smallest cricket in the grass
High summer: soft the golden moments pass
I watch the dust-mites dancing in the hay
I leap for joy and click and whirr all day
The village bells chime out. The swallow trills
The villagers awake to work and bills
Planning ahead, they sharpen knife and plough
I am a hedonist. I live for now
Thursday, March 15, 2012
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4/25/2024 3:07:49 AM # 1.0.0.1119
