Title:
Grackles cover your fenced feeder,<div>each oiled sunflower a promise:</div><div>on the drumlin built by graders, maybe:</div><div>ragweed, goldenrod, lion's teeth</div><div>keep rooting. Nothing new.</div><div> Maybe your neighbours curse the poison by-laws, dip their Agent Orange into creeks</div><div>to rub their palms on Astroturf. Maybe each of us envies one another's infinity</div><div>pools, wants our Billy bookshelves replaced by teak. </div><div> </div><div>Once more, maybe, way back, </div><div>the birds dig deep and chorus. </div><div>Their cast-off shells on the lawn's </div><div>off-pitch outfield: organic, I bet, and fairly traded,</div><div>with feeling.</div>
Author:
Bio:
What is the sum of 10 and 5:
It's your turn! Move into the poem. Renovate it. Knock down its walls. Put your spin on it. Make it your own.