past ferry
You always liked to feed the squirrels,
but on that fateful day
A natural eureka would find its way
out into our world.
It was a small sacrifice for mankind
a melted piece of peanut cluster bar in your pocket
Near the magnetron
The little lightbulb in your mind
blinding...
Then a tradition was born
Started with kernels of corn
popped with ease
And given to colleagues
Fluffy, salty
white flowers
crunching
sick fern
lost bay