What did you think
as you starred at me,
withstood my daring
move to edge ever closer?
I was sure you would
jump, startle my focused
composure, watch
as I tumbled
over innocent daisies
and disturbed the bees,
who had been so kind
not to sting,
but you posed,
sat and looked
right at me,
and I felt so blessed
to have such a fine
moment, but I was
hoping for a song,
a fiddled melody
like the ones your
kind plays on late
summer evenings
under the slip
of a mellow moon,
but I guess you refuse
such revelry on
sultry afternoons
when we both
have more work to do —
you have tender leaves
to chew, and I have digits
and data to peruse.
—C.L. Fisher, August 2021
Unless otherwise indicated, all writings and images are the work of C.L. Fisher and may not be copied, used, or distributed without permission.
Poetic Meanderings 