The pearl light of morning
Tesselates the green leaves.
A breeze stirs the wind chimes
And brings on birdsong.
He tilts his massive black-and-white head
Quizzically at the alien hum of a passing bus,
Then turns toward the sun and seems
To swim in the dappled light
Filtering through sharp-shaped leaves.
He snaps off shoots and munches.
Between bites, he rests on his hinds,
Letting the bittersweet pass over
His fat pink tongue and into
The blue sky of his Buddha belly.
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