Pinball in the Yard

A poem just for the kids...

 

The yard is a giant

Pinball Machine:

Apples bounce and boink

almost electronically

on the branches of trees,

pop and explode

on the unhappy sticky-sweet ground.

Bees tickle the grass

to get to the

apple rot cream.

Flower ladies

tap their feet,

leaf hand on hip

at being ignored

for the voluptuous new Apple creatures.

Extra points! Oh, oh dear,

Daisy’s been crushed

by a falling thing!

With her last bit of strength,

Daisy sends the

Apple

rolling on its way,

and there you have it:

the game is still in play!