I love your big green yard,
love walking in your low cut grass
in the early morning when it’s
dew-lush and cool. Love
seeing my sister crows across the lawn.
Of course, I call out to them.
That’s what we crows do.
That’s what you do, too, honey,
when you walk down the street,
say hello, even to strangers,
because that’s what intelligent,
social beings do.
And those big juicy worms
you grow here? Five out of five stars.
Would recommend.
Of course, I want all my friends
to know where to find them.
To sing is to survive, sweetheart.
And the sun’s up. Time to live loud.
Come walk barefoot in the cool, wet grass.
Feels so good, doesn’t it, the earth so moist,
the dawn light so soft.
Doesn’t it just make you want to sing?