Farmer’s Walls

by D. F.

Stone rocks and
Plessy pocks, ‘member times of yore

Laid toes splayed on throes of deer men
Fading gore

Nippy wind glacéd grin melt ‘pon the
branch, felted moss bursting, trees leaves lurching

Guile fox, slink along the creek, sip and
drink, dip those feet, frazzle locks caught

In stream, sweet degrees, fragrant rays of sun,
Let them shine, deeply in-to spirit, silly fun

An in heat, gaily seat yourself on the
ground and feel,
sweetly eat and kiss the sun

© 2023 D.F.  All rights reserved.

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