The narrative starts with a grasshopper at my feet, facing me.
We consider each other until it helicopters away into a neighbor's lawn.
I could map the miles of sidewalk in this suburb, drop of red dot where
I met the grasshopper, who means no evil, just lives its insect life.

The day is free verse, the lyric eye taking notes, ears listening large.
It all adds up. Meaning is where I make it. The story ends with spilled wine,
broken glass. The merlot does not stain, no shard draws blood.
I retreat to the house to hold off the dark.