from a forthcoming book… ‘Green Fields’


 

 

 

 

 

 

The outside world pours in regardless
of what my thoughts might be; for the beginning
day, or brought by stages
from the dreamscapes of the night before

while the little girls
sleep, nap time a reach beyond high noon

It’s no accident I think that the dandelions
rise through the lawn, to thrust
their white mandalas
against the horizon between earth and sky:
plucked by unreasoning squeals of delight

And childish glee, pinched by tiny fingers more used
to exploring nasal caves; or the sweet
mud of dirt and green, as they investigate each

Second without hint of time and decay, every moment
a new discovery: while I watch the trees bleed
sap, the leaves a canopy of shelter
against what the world always plans mistakenly

©Dean Baker

• my books – http://www.amazon.com/Dean-J.-Baker/e/B00IC6PGQM- buy one, do yourself a service 🙂

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