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.

snowball hole in ice