In whack


Bevy, plethora, array, row --

pattern, barely controlled.


Like sexy solar panels, a long line, 

laid back, each quite eager


to excite the grid, hot to go.

Mountain spring, pent up,


simpatico, pooled, ready to flow.

Downstream, a lithe wildflower,


in whack, about to discover

she has been sighing of thirst.

                              Timothy Pilgrim