A utopian community far into the future
Their buzz the sound of a thousand motors whirring
Satellites around a planet
How do you describe the smell of dirt
In a new way?
Each blade of grass a new smell
Such concentration and devotion
The paperboy (man actually) pulls randomly
Up to the next house, parking catty-wampus
To oncoming traffic of which
There is none at this hour.
The birds come to life as the sun rises
Except for the crows,
They must like to sleep in.
Our walk, a ring around the neighborhood
First south, then east as the hill
Undulates, a coiled snake (asleep)
And their meal and the coolness of fresh water.