Ground Zero

The soil cracks into a city grid,
green skyscrapers twist and rise
and morph into spinnakers.
Minarets pop through the eyeline.
A heavy-bellied bee hovers low
like a news crew,
five-eyed in the summer sky,
while a beetle bulldozes a small neighbourhood
to find his prize.

In city hall they speak in hushed tones
of cats, rabbits, foxes,
and all the dangers they pose.
A mile away, or possibly a foot,
the mower drones.


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