Don’t jump around
between lunge and sound.
Glide with a tail.
Surpass sponge and snail.
Crawl over sand.
That tree is scanned.
Eat bark and leaf.
Climb in relief.
Claws pursue you.
Swing through the blue.
Fly high and sit.
You’re there because of grit.
Swoop down and kiss
all that you missed:
the microbes of old.
So mute, numerous and bold
are demanding their say.
“Keep changing and pay!“
Feel it coming on.
So hot in the qualm.
What reaction to this flow?
Hold the nose and blow!
Achoo!
Published in Poetry