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Monday, September 08, 2014

The Errant Chicken





 




No longer summer;
A fall chill is in the air.
Green sunlight still shines.



 



 As the cars swish by
The high leaves tremble slightly;
Shadows motionless.







Across from my house
Shadowed woods are beckoning
Like they always do.









The errant chicken
Having escaped from its coop
Stares at the fenced goat.






Suddenly these trees
Are bare and devoid of leaves--
Ready for winter.






Whoosh sound down the road--
Sign of an approaching car
Or wind through the woods.







Leaning old mail box
Seems like its weighted down
With eager ivy.






Buzzing in the woods
Like two giant mosquitoes:
Duet of chain saws.


































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