Cows don’t play hop-scotch
Any more than pigs,
Kittens never cackle ever
The way a dog digs,
The way bees buzz or birds fly
Or bubbles float or babies cry.
Still, why they do or don’t it seems 
I only understand in dreams.

Some times I wonder
If it wouldn’t be fun
To let the trees go where they please
Or make the moon the sun.
But then my shoes would be my hat,
And so I leave things this or that
About the way they are, but funny
Like breadandbuttercups and honey.