blame

I blame no one, nothing,
because much good does come
from these afternoon storms
that quench the thirst of so
much about me.

But I wish there
was less of it.

I dream & am made
imperfect. I lean &
fall down to the carpet.
I itch & feel stains of
poison ivy.

I wonder & blame current
affairs like the Oil Slick
in the Gulf.

I sit & am made
translucent.

06.02.10

(© 2010 by j. m. Scoville)