Relieved, I let the book fall behind a stone. <br />I climb a slight rise of grass. <br />I do not want to disturb the ants <br />Who are walking single file up the fence post, <br />Carrying small white petals, <br />Casting shadows so frail that I can see through them. <br />I close my eyes for a moment and listen. <br />The old grasshoppers <br />Are tired, they leap heavily now, <br />Their thighs are burdened. <br />I want to hear them, they have clear sounds to make. <br />Then lovely, far off, a dark cricket begins <br />In the maple trees.<br /><br />James Arlington Wright<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/depressed-by-a-book-of-bad-poetry-i-walk-toward/
