so much green you want to drink
it, roll in it, tail wagging, drunk as a dog.

in the grey pond fish
surface from the murky
beneath. their bull’s-eye ripples.

the slide, rollercoaster-wild,
is no taller than you. the verge
you log roll is grassy, aflame,

daffodil starry. you get so
turned around here. fold your
feelings into frightened squares,

muddle them in the belly of a hat.
remove them, smooth

them, align them, one by one.