A unicorn waters his garden
and nothing is out of the ordinary.
Droplets of sprinkled water
weigh heavy on leaves
of brownish green,
they dip and bow
refract the sun
prisms of light
illuminated
drip
fall
onto the
earth below
soaking into
hungry roots
craving nutrients
A pony stops
at the tiny white fence
"Good morning, nice seeing you.
Gardens looking swell.
Coming along wonderfully.
You should come over for tea."
The sun bears down with
the morning summer heat
A crisp, cool breeze flutters by
Chimes ring in the distance
with bright, delicate voices
The air is thick with the smell
of strawberries and fresh mint.
but the flowers are withered and old
The unicorn looks to the sky
he'd almost forgotten how blue
sprawling
gaping
it was
a month indoors will do that to a pony.
He thinks
even on the brink of withering thirst
sometimes
we can still emerge to blossom.