Poppycakes again, trying to extend the glass frog poem. 

Yesterday was Day 4 and the prompt was "hold that," and Day 5 (today) is "plus." 




The trunk of the trees hold

the sky overhead, a foliage

of cloud, a lightning of branch

holds that cluster of cotton

ball leaves. How the highest

part of the rainforest collects

these most gemmish of beings.

More like an antique broach

than a frog living in a wooded

place more sky than tree.



Plus the tchotchke

purchased from a glass

blower’s cart in the center

of a mall somewhere,

a greenish back, black

accents and a belly transparent

windowing only the scenery

it rests upon. Plus the estate sale's

circle of heavy antique glass, the holes

spaced evenly out: flower-stem partitions

an old flower-shop tool bought today

by a woman who breathessly

exclaimed to the bereaved son

that his parents had left behind

a real rare thing, as she placed

handed over a dollar, thrilled

to be grabbing such a deal.

Plus, the day where the sunshine

comes down in separate rays

like a child’s sun, or a sun

placed in a florist’s frog 

and dissected, each beam of light

a drinking straw where heaven

sips light from us