a bazooka of basil had broken the ceasefire yet I

held my ground until

Friday's garlic howitzer but still I kept

my powder dry, beseiged by that

coiled enigma now so compromised that I

refrained from even a

side-long glance until Tuesday, when,

hit below the belt by curiosity I

surrendered, only to recoil at an

explosive residue of

pickle (courgette or mayhap

cucum...

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Leisurely and alone,

I was wandering in the museum garden.

​

Flowers were completely gone,

But deep green summer leaves fully grown,

And on each branch

Small birds all the way chirping:

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Certainly for me a perfect afternoon

To be seated still and calm,

To be lost in poem-reciting!

​

But suddenly a wind arose

When a human voice caught my ear,

Saying low ye...

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