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