Green embedded the floor,
a sonic chlorophyll symphony
permitting the sunlight to sweep the immaculate eyes
of saintly columns.
Wet grass sounds like the cadence of caterpillars
who move like butter over leaves.
the rain revives the ground like a fizzing soda down your throat,
and the girl in the black and white dress
takes a picture with her camera necklace.
It is Wednesday and the grass
is cold, but gunshots break the ice.