V
Shining on grass and flowers, 
this is too wet for dew—
it is last night’s rain; 
yes, the bottom leaves of the bushes beside the walk
are still pasted to the asphalt.
The birds that merely cheeped at dawn 
are whistling, chirping and twittering, 
wherever I turn. Why then do I look askance
at this man
plodding along talking to himself?


VI
These plants 
which once halted the traveller 
with thick thorny leaves 
and clusters of spines 
have become ornaments 
to guard beds of flowers.