Summer Freshness

The sky is like a blue jellyfish. And all around are fields, rolling meadows— Peaceful world, you great mousetrap, Would that I might finally escape from you.. O if I had wings— One plays dice. Guzzles. Chatters about future countries. Each person puts in his own two cents. The earth is a succulent Sunday roast, Nicely dunked into a sweet sun-sauce. If only there were a wind... that ripped The gentle world with iron claws. That would amuse me. But if a storm comes... It would shred The lovely blue eternal sky into a thousand pieces.