Archive
08/15/08
Sprinklers I love summer, hate winter, with a passion. I savor sitting outdoors, In my apartment building's large garden, Staring, for hours on end, at the sprinklers' spraying. Oh, certainly, I stay out of their way, Under a giant oak tree that shades the shuffleboard court. Their susurrance is so soothing, I often fall asleep.
Some of them shoot a stream of water fifty feet, at least, In glistening circles, like spinning merry-go-rounds With the sun glinting off their mirrors; Some only make 180-degree oscillations; Others don't rotate at all but work like showerheads. My eyes grow dizzy, trying to follow all the giddy trajectories. What better way to mesmerize a summer's day?
08/15/08
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