no bugs
<>it is early spring and there are no bugs yet
lying in my hammock, writing, whirling
as my fingers grip my pen
i realize that this is my weapon against insignificance
and anonymity
why whisper in the wind
when you can scream from within
i love it here, lying here, thinking here
next to the thicket and treeline
remembering this time last year
when i was cradled in decline
it is early spring and there are no bugs yet
can it always be this way
warm breezes and bug freedom
at least i can have THIS day
i see a plane tear across my blue sky
burning fuel as it returns from vacation spots
i wonder where they've been
and i wonder if there were bugs there
<>
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