bury me in a yoghurt pot
opiate on an errant breeze, or
like a cat caught upon another’s food;
lithe in secret so to tease; a dream under
my ptotic eyelids adopts its snoozing mode,
to count the summer days that go by, go by;
for goodbye soon, and hello to fall will fall,
and the year, to our greedy eyes, will die,
and soon the deep winter will be all, be all.
so bury my seed in a yogurt pot
and i will await the spring.