,

under rug.s.wept

in busy-blindness

 

Spring comes while human ants are busy
Birds sing in naked trees
Maybe to say: 'Be happy'

Under cloudy slow skies
The grass is wet with muddy pools
Soft smells as we grow
Brick walls and cars to be parked

Squares and rectangles 
Easier to fit as same
Condense wild dreams
That end up here and now

As our elders go
Watching sun rays filter darkness
Maybe to say: 'Be happy'

Snow tomorrow so not much in a hurry
To know when and how
The carpet flies away
It's busy-blindness ticking hopes

 

under rug swept

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