One of the projects sponsored by Poetry Society of America is short poems posted in panels on NY subways. Larry caught a glimpse of this one, exiting the train:
Dew
Like peas in their
green canoe, like
beads strung
in a row, sit
drops of dew
along a blade
of grass. But
unattached and
subject to their
weight they slip
if they accumulate.
Down the green tongue,
out of the morning sun,
into the general damp,
they’re gone.
Kay Ryan