picnic time

I.

The sweet scent

Of cooked candy

Nests in my nostrils

I walk the woods

For myriad miles

After a piece

of pudding or pie

My stomach screams

Leading my legs

Fast and fervid

To a circular clearing

Where I watch

A fatty family

beginning their banquet

II.

On the Vichy cotton tablecloth

Laying out on the ground

There are fresh fruits and sandwiches and pastries and muffins and tarts

I and my equals go ahead in line

To satiate our hunger

In that amazing paradise.

A hand and an "ouch" after,

Some of us were hurled aside

We go crazy and disorganized

Each on their own side

Trying to take and load something

On our run back.