"People who daily expect to encounter fabulous realities run smack into them again and again. They keep their minds open for their eyes." (Ken Macrorie)
Sunday, April 26, 2009
The Green Bug
stared ahead from his perch atop the metal bird tree, his antennae poised like little flags. Taking in the sun perhaps awaiting some signal to leap and fly. Three times, I snapped. Before the fourth he disappeared, a sherbet dream.
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