Auto #8

Ok ok
How does it go?
I sit here at
This lake. It’s Clear.

We are forecast to bake
In late summer heat.
For goodness’ sake,
The view’s complete,

Occasional vessel
For ski or fish.
Right through the middle,
Speedboat swish.

Speakers blaring.
Engine rumble scaring
Fly and fowl.
Cept the owl,

Who knows better.
A real go getter,
Dancing after dinner,
Sleeping through the day,

While we run and play.
Twisted limbs
To tangle in
Bramble’s ankle.

But I digress.
I’d rather ramble
And squeeze this view
Intact and placid.

Without anothers’ acid
And bile, to pollute
The juicy fruit of thought
And prayer of those

Who care
for subtle grace,
Now reflecting
In my cooking face.

(automatics)

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