The hummingbird’s transfixed by red
An infant snuggles to his suck
Down bends pussycat to the bowl
I’ll take coffee with toast and cheese.
Trees imbibe deep in ambient soil
Hopping birds, hell bound for seeds
Horses chew bag- hidden oats
Cows content to chew on cud.
Might this breakfast portend a variant day–
Or yet more, of yesterday’s re-run
Better look again, the Sun’s back up,
To serve until the Luna light.
The Sun shall set at eight o’clock,
A gibbous Moon, arrive at nine.
The dark again precede the light, and
The hummingbird return for red.
*[Quarantine ennui]
-p.
[Leonard N .Shapiro May ’21)
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