The way ducklings hide
in the wetland prairie grass.
All the avocado trees

I might have grown
if only I saved those

pits.

I call the park my front
yard because I am
unlicensed and landless.

The lake is really
a large pond is a tiny

reservoir

of dreams.
The tarp that hung
from the pedestrian

bridge truss briefly,
then fell sometime

between

my crossings. A
bundle of treated green
canvas could be

an unidentified body
of water. Are you the Jeopardy

answer,

or question? Not
too much
left to drink at all.