In the morning sweep
a wondering silverfish -
swept up with the dust.

Two ants carry a
beetle to their port of call
in a perfect march.

While I am running
a bug flew into my eye. 
Could it still be there?

A yellow and black
butterfly lands on my path
with no fear of feet.

On old east coast roads
grass pushes up through the cracks...
no need to repair.

As I near the bridge
I hear the running water
When did the sound start?

Under great sea rocks
green grass flourishes upward
from sea, salt and sand.

The east coast wind blows
constantly from the ocean...
trees give in and bend.

On my morning jog
stepped on a small green apple
I don't see the tree...

At the pavement edge
precious purple flowers turn 
to plump rosehips - Why?