Snarl on the highway. Line-up at Foodland. Out of mint tea and only four sprouts left.
Computer’s updating. Door’s blowing open. There’s a wasp elbow deep in my cold can of Coke.
Garbage is stinking. Windows are streaking. Gooey mud on my shoes from the flood on the hill.
Rocks formed of stardust.
Oaks making oxygen.
Such a rare thing that this world is at all.