dry leaves chase one another in the breeze
over placidity of green, lacustrine water
my friend and i canoe, float by some rocks
assembled, maybe carved, into the shape of buddha
how wonderful the artistry, i remark
to turn a natural charm even more beautiful
with conscious effort; my friend opens her mouth
aligns it to my ear, starts wailing
an uncanny siren of fury shatters the buddha head
scattering tons of pollen fluff that blends
into the leaves' recital; her strange voice lingers
as i wake, my room in unrealistic screaming
i guess she didn't like my comment
