dogtrax

If one could bottle the mottle of green beneath; a forever sea

for Algot

Soft rain, splatters

the quiet, matters

A map emerges from among the green leaf veins of the maple tree

A map emerges from among the red leaf veins of the maple tree

A map emerges from among the green leaf veins of the maple tree

Spring water, flowing from distant mountains above, wends its slow way home

An unwanted buzz singing fire in your ears, the mosquito lands

Rambling through tall grass in order to get to the view, then: Tick check! Tick check!

Head down, walking fast, the blast of flies comes calling; June's a nasty month

It's hard to read the headlines, day in and day out