I point my hammock to the sun

[Achebe]

I point my hammock to the sun.
Warming light balances cooling wind.
As our rooster proclaims his opinions repeatedly,
The donkey, nerd with sinus trouble, nasally 
responds with non sequitur.
Bees spiral upward in their gyre, scatter
outwardly then rein themselves back in again
later with their bounty.
Early plants start from the soil
like young kids in their first days of school.

I fall asleep as Nancy our goat eats my wife's favorite plant.

Such pure pastoral bliss irritates me. I was hoping for a Tatar vanguard to make an appearance and salt the earth.