Poetry

Here's a short poem for the month of April:

Peas

I should not plant the peas
inside this colored pack;
for if I do, it's true,
soon as I turn my back
every beast and bird
within a city block
will pluck each small green leaf
right off each skinny stalk.
I should not plant these peas.
It's just a waste, but still,
I WANT to plant these peas.

I will!