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Wednesday, February 08, 2012

No Dialogue Here







 


Not a sign of white;
Just gray gloomy threat of snow;
And cars, always cars.


 

Colors are subdued;
The pine trees have lost their sheen;
Grass not green nor brown.

 

Single patch of snow
Lies at the foot of my porch.
Cows moo, roosters crow.

 Rooster crows, crows caw;
Giant hawk sitting on tree.
No dialogue here.

 

 Mourning dove's soft coo
Echoing through the forest
Breaks the cold silence.

Shadow on the road
Appears for just a second;
Then it's memory.


Twisting and snaking
Root emerges from the earth,
Then dives back again.


The old shack windows
Look outward, inward, reflect;
There's nothing inside.


 














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