a bright green lawn

No not here

somewhere in empty land

where plans fall through

the cracks of giant picnic tables

it rained so heavily

we had to take shelter under the benches.

All is lost in the endless green grass

the blades like swords.

After the storm we manage 

to climb on top of the table.

Now we see 

they are everywhere, these picnic tables,

there's hundreds of them.

We explore the one we are on

jumping over the cracks

the wet wood slippery,

we find a heart carved into one of the planks

the wood chips big as our hands

still lay beside it

with the soaked crumbs of the meal 

 that we will 

share later this week

( photo today; looking up from under a tree, glittering insulators, currents unknown)