bursting

Sometimes I think
I wish
I think wish think
I lived in a place where the green trees
burst gratefully from the black-topped red clay,
where red berries exploded into sun-warmth
to be plucked,eaten,
drooled down the beautiful face of the world's most beautiful boy.
And then I think,
yes. thank you. yes.
And then my gratitude wakes up
goes online
uploads and writes a one-minute poem
to the world
saying thanks, world,
for sharing.