A Verdin

A verdin was going about his business,

betaking bugs on a bougainvillaea.

Nearby was an orange tree

a cape honeysuckle and a gardenia.

Farther afield, though, not very far

as the crow flies, or the verdin, in Truth,

were a fig, a tangerine cross vine and a few flowers.

The verdin didn’t know it was 11:30,

how many bugs he had swallowed or would,

he knew only that he was part of Heaven,

living a normal, lively day.