The robins love the rain
See how those robins love the rain
Aren’t you too going to
Dig your holes
Eat your food
And one day fly away?
The daffodils have spent all their gold
They didn’t save it
They’ve no plans for the future but to
Die and live again
The grubs seem barely born
Leggy half circles of translucent half life
With insatiable lawn cravings
Eat roots and shoots, ask questions later
Like:
How does one squishy bug cause
All this damage?
Most days I’m the robin
Industriously busy
Sometimes I’m the daffodil
Burning brightly, burning out
Today I’m just a
Grub
Always hungry
Barely reborn
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Post 24 of 40 Daze: A Lenten Writing Practice
