No Perfection

Today is a day like any other day in my postage stamp yard blinding with white sun
Iridescent hummingbirds, royal purple petunias, green aphids and rusted rose leaves
Exist side by side
Floaty butterfly's are in decline while the ants quickly take over carrying their precious
Jade like aphids from leaf to leaf spreading disease while they make sweet milk for the colony

My life is expecting perfection; No fuck ups allowed

I could have been a flower or bird or aphid or ant
but stuck in human form
watching—weighing—wishing
There is no perfection,
Only the acceptance of its non existence

The Esplanade

I blinked as my eye followed the line of ants as it crossed the sun scorched pavement. It led from somewhere under the shade of the paw-paw tree and then across the esplanade off towards the abandoned mission church. I sat at a small table out of the sun, nursing a warming lime drink, batting away the occasional lazy fruit fly. I was waiting for you. My faint hope that you would come was fading as if following that line of ants off into the distance. I couldn’t get up the energy to wipe the single tear slowly making its way down my cheek.