012019d

Jack of the Green

Green Jack dances in the tilted meadow

when darkness falls.

The windows overhead are blocked,

but the sun is shining on fields of flowers

on the other side of the river.

How he got there no one knows.

Perhaps he stowed away wrapped around a lily bulb,

pressed between the pages of a treasured scrapbook,

or in a packet of carrot seeds brought

from the old country by a small child.

Since he came, the plants are thriving,

which formerly languished in their new home,

the stalks are taller, more sturdy, the

flowers bigger and the colors brighter,

In Lagrangia now that Jack is here.