The Greatest Show on Earth
The bees have begun tuning their violins,
raking their wings along the sleep-filled strings
as I sit in the parking lot peeling stickers off of half-priced
books.
The roses are unfurling their red carpets,
the ants are single-filing their way across the dirt—
as if millenia of evolution has instilled in them a sense of
propriety.
Soon the bees will find their starting notes,
soon the birds will lift their voices, soon the ants
will fill the soil like an auditorium, and I will lift my head from my
book
Just in time to see the sun framing your body,
a pre-bloom dandelion perfecting its pirouette between
your thumb and second finger, a smile lifting your face like a
curtain.
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