JUNE

Deep in emerald foliage,
barky black and gray,
moss-frosted, giant, vine-cloaked, arboreal chia-pet Druids, the forest in repose.

Hit-n-run Gemini rains leave the misty moor flush with flowers, flies, and toads.
And the “real world” with its deadlines, dead ends, and deadheads screams
“LIES, LIES, LIES.”

Overhead, darkening skies adorn themselves with plundered treasures of unicorn and dragon riders, the last known quantum magicians,
the last Gandolfs and Merlins,
you and I.

–LE