One tree is bigger than the other tree.
But one bug gently shifts the blame,
buttoning one bug's blouse.
And luckily it's got to have an end, because there's tugging.

Would a wind in the next door lake float?
Why answering?
Why scaring off the quiet that had stayed?

 I'm cluttered by your lurking.
I'm back to shirtless in a panic.
I'm tucked in traffic, tidy as a plum.
Soulful port city! Antlering
(my sons sons sons sons sons)