Grasshoppers flags 

Down by the course dirt lane

The hard presence of the pebbles 

Cutting the hot sun baked grasses 

It’s grasshopper, working to raise the littlest flags 

His tiny little empty empire has hard times

Drought and floods,  growth and death 

They both come as a hash brown 

Sand wasps and birds seek him out

Each with a different evil agenda 

If either are successful his empire ends

Nothing left but his little flags

To be rotted out next flood

Or burned by a forever sun 

Grasshopper has to raise his flags

To bring a mate

Will his family be a reality?

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