Green Lake

In summer,
the
silver
car
drives on the smooth gray pavement
to
Green Lake.

We arrive at the shore,
children frolicking,
adults at the snack bar
asking their kids what flavor of Sno-Kone they want.

We ease into it.
It embraces us and we let it.
We are but dreams floating around in the lake's mind.

We part the green murky water,
stroke it,
comfort it,
and it comforts us.

Ode to Trees

There is a tree at the park.

A big tree.

In the summer it feels warm and smooth.

If you climb to the top you can pretend you're ruler of the world.

Or Galileo.

The tree breathes what I breathe.

You scrape your knee on it's branch?

It says sorry.

So don't cuss at it.

It has rough brown skin.

Its cloak is green.

Its feet are buried in the ground.

Some day we will be down there, with the tree's feet.

Suzie's Headache

Suzie was a smart girl,

she was really, really nice

but she had a problem that

she couldn't cure with ice.

She had a whopping headache, it was really, really bad.

It made her frustrated, angry and really, really sad.

Soon she had enough of it, so she told her mother.

Then she figured out that the

headache

was

her

brother.