The Cardinal whistles
at the bitter coffee
leavened with thick cream
and brown cane sugar.
The breeze runs and stumbles
through the planted grasses
and blooming flowers
above the hidden prairie.
Slicing through the morning
the bike descends the bluffs
to the wide flood plain
with its tilting houses.
The sweet green air
is rising with the sun
from warming lambsquarters
pushing up through cracks.
The old water tower
on rusting legs
turns its bird-filled body
toward the fiery east.
And here we sit
in this tumbling day
parsing out the wild joy
of the ever unfolding.
.
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