the shade of the tree
to the left of me
looked somehow better
in the heat of the blazing day
it beckoned in loneliness
for a person to sleep beneath
and show the value of its canopy

and so i wandered over
and sat under and upon the clover
only to find no difference
save for the impression of my body
in the grass upon the roots
of the one i had moved away from
now somehow less for my absence
while the current, no greater than before.