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Saturday, December 01, 2012

A Real Horse's Ass





 
It's below freezing;
The lawn is a white blanket;
I must be crazy. 

 
 
The line of my porch
Is now a clear and cold white.
Still the cars rush by.


The long white driveway
Marks the absence of travel--
Undisturbed blanket.


A spot in the branch:
A tiny sailing blackbird
Lands on the tree top.

 

Bird swoops from the sky,
Emerging from the blankness
Then to disappear.


Snow covered red swing
Sits empty through the seasons;
No one rides it now.

 

It's really not bad
When you see it in the flesh:
A real horse's ass.


My good friend,  black Belle
Comes padding down to greet me;
Then she runs away.


Invisible plane
Roars softly across the sky.
Then silence returns.


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