Laptop Pastorale

Citied poets in chic coffee shops
(at their elbows cappuccino cups)
hear not the noise of traffic on the street
the patter of passing crowds hurrying feet.
Sit before their laptops dreamily
composing poetry most charmingly
about the lovely scent of hollyhocks!
How strident are the morning calls of cocks!
rapt'rous o'er the od'rous barn and barnyard,
fresh milk foaming in pails,
Ma's scarecrow standing guard
over the kitchen garden, hay in bales,
the barefoot child at the backyard fence.
remembered (oh, falsely), innocence.

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