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From: sara@mhuxj.UUCP (TRIGS)
Newsgroups: net.poems
Subject: Lines for Gregory
Message-ID: <337@mhuxj.UUCP>
Date: Fri, 27-Dec-85 23:26:15 EST
Article-I.D.: mhuxj.337
Posted: Fri Dec 27 23:26:15 1985
Date-Received: Sat, 28-Dec-85 23:15:19 EST
Organization: AT&T Bell Laboratories, Murray Hill
Lines: 16

Boy and baseball, butterfly and blue sky
contrive together to knit their summer day,
laughter racing over the sloping lawn,
baseball looping into the blue, row on row,
hour upon hour. Somewhere in the distance
a flute is being played. Its soft notes
weave, ghostly, a melody among the trees.
Overhead, planes are being tossed somewhere
important-- places like Chicago and L.A.
again and again. No one watches; or perhaps
only some adult waiting to tell us we can't play,
curious, as when we watch the butterfly
bright orange with purple specks, beautiful
and helpless, buffeted by whatever wind is near.

by Jeffery Alan Triggs