garden. Yellow blossoms rise
like bricks of butter.
Saturday sprinklers.
Pitbull canters through wet grass.
Paw prints seem so small
Pebbles cannot form
a garden. It may be art,
but gardens must live.
Dandelion stems
rule the yard. It makes me think
of sad-eyed children.
A thirsty puppy
gulps down water. Bi-bi-bi birds
sing in my back yard.
--April 13, 2013
Prompt: Take a walk and write your observations into a poem.
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