Pain

Bringing them out

Like freshly bought butterflies

Like tulips and roses

And tasty ears of corn

Full of joy and bounce

They never surrender

Full of color and chaotic smells

All day I’d like to slip a few

I pass them fluttering on the street

And hear their vibes

And catch their eyes

The warm sun beats down

The shadows created

Between erect buildings

And tremendous skyscrapers

Waltzing along

With cherries at height

Feeling wet

And sparkle cheese

Overcast

Comes over

Shade all around

Casting and engulfing

They scurry like ants

Way down to the underground

Luxurious displays

On pleasure pictures

Following their flutter

I think of something to mutter

Leaning against

A view I’ll never forget

Legs sticking out

All over they wiggle

Under my silver

Gathering clusters of drops

Like embarrassed young children

Like little babies

And hand-held raisins

© 1998 David Greg Harth

98.03.12.22:17:29@10036NYC