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He looked as if he belonged there-
As if he had grown from the soft dirt
Such as the old beings surrounding him,
Those with wide waists covered in scars;
With arms that reached high into the endless blue
And large green fingers that spread out to touch it;
Such as the little green heads
And their thin little necks
Poking out of the ground
Aiming towards that blue…

He sat on a log-
A dead body resting peacefully
With music boxes that chirped songs,
Flowing with the pollinated breaths
While apartment doorbells buzzed around the colorful blobs of paint-
Paint that smiled at the light bulb in the blue…
Among Mother Nature’s beautiful metaphors
And her peaceful kindness,
In relation with her furry sons and green daughters,
He looked as if he belonged there.

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