Mini-Me

Lying in the squishy center
of red melon meat,
Sweet, cool, and juicy.
My arms tucked comfortably
beneath my head
resting on a soft white seed,

like a pillow bed.
I spit the black seeds out
like bullets – rat tat tat . . .
to take root
in the grass; to propagate
more pillows on sweet

meat beds.
From the melon vine
to the grapes intwined
in the field next door,
I walk the hammock hanging
between the vines

to hop atop a rolling grape.
Knees bouncing like a surfer,
up and down with the ground,
The vine gives me a perch
to slice the skin of the grape’s
sweet meat

to burst and slurp juices
down my chin to the gathering bin
to sip from a tiny cup,
with my grape red feet,
my day complete.