A rock is an animal
you cannot

He is curled, laying,
half sunken (already)
Dozing in the Maple shade;

There is a butterfly
in his daydream
small rounded wings,

I told you she was not helpless.
Her own little body lifts
and falls
and surges and rocks

and travels and lulls with
the hibernating
Carboniferous animal
whose feet are now green,

whose soul believes
it is always spring.


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