Poem By William B. Deutscher
Leaves rustling green in the summer field,
Lying like day on the afternoon.
Eyelashes curling all the way to fast doom,
The endless splurge of sun on the breeze.
Birds in their sequestered trees,
Singing the song of the park life fey.
Daylight spread like a picnic cloth,
The trapping trill of dullard joy.