The Garden Party

It's summer, and there was a
party in the garden last night. We
were shut out. Shut in, more to the point,
fast asleep abed when the festivities
to which we were pointedly not invited
took place. We are beyond taking
offence, just one of those things
about social exclusion and exclusive 
cliques. Not our style, after all.

After all our time and effort in the
garden, though, it does affect one,
to be shunned. Everyone but us
romped last night, in nature's playground.
The birds and the bees, moths and
dragonflies, raccoons and squirrels,
garden toads and June bugs.  They

invited the trees and shrubs, flowers
and vines and a good time was had
by all. We know this; everywhere
we looked this morning offered 
plausible evidence of tipsy plants and
warbling birds dabbling in the bird
bath; pearly dew like crystal confetti,
left in the wake of last night's raucous
and very exclusive party scene.