by Roy Dorman
He had fallen into the bushes
while reaching down
to turn off the outside faucet for the hose.
He now lay there on his back for a bit,
crushing some of his treasured,
not knowing if he should laugh or cry.
He almost certainly would crush
a few more of the ferns and jack-in-the-pulpits
in the process of rolling over to get back up.
The longer he thought about it,
the more he was leaning toward laughter