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MOTHER NATURE'S WRITING STYLE
(In the aftermath of a tropical storm)
The stormy Fay's 16 inches of tears washed great
holes in our dirt road, creating in one place
a deep, muddy pool full of hundreds of wiggling black
commas, as if a frustrated country poet, grown weary
of punctuation, had dumped there his life's inventory.
And as commas indicate only a pause, I soon moved on,
But still, didn't finish the sentence until days later, when
passing the now dried-up pool in morning light, I found
the commas had not paused long either, having changed
into a myriad froglets, small as a child's fingernail, hopping
in broken rhythm, inching across the dangerous road: Tiny
additions, I would guess, to our latest generation of Mr. Toad. |
