as I stare wild starving in the world full
of human beings, progress, tall buildings:
or glare mild at the field full of protein;
sustenance enough to make hay the life;
straw deities comedic scarecrows just
for  the fun of it, launch colored balloons
or string cornhusks together,   decorate
the fair old oak standing in the center
that neither loves too much or cries  at the
slightest breeze that fells his seed among the
cultivations  like they may grow prouder
than all the skyscrapers ever man built
in concrete, the fair oak an oasis
of nature for the squirrel to discover