It may not take
        your breath away

the trees the piped in pond
of gray-green water
          as bland as
the idioms
          or
tautologies that inspired
them

        and

as equally flat
as the former fields
         of
tasteless feed corn

but maybe it's not
        beauty we need

just space
         to keep the crickets
 at bay

and oil the hinges
          on the screen door

making it less creaky

Whit Howland © 2020