Lower than grass, working the segments that are its brilliance, the millipede crosses the path. My foot is a measuring stick, a clumsy hoof
Beneath the lilac, among the daisies, they appear, topknots waving like clown umbrellas in a parade or like a buffet sign Eat Here! Their
to account for my time on earth, the speckled frolic in the pasture out the window of a drive-by delivery, how do you fold