Walk the rails under a high blue sky. Find the sag in the leaning fence, and step--carefully--over rusted wire. Follow a peninsula of blond grasses through a lake of loam, and come, at last, to the timber's edge where gray branches trace the sky and rose hips curl near purple canes.
Monday, January 13, 2014
"The Thing With Feathers"
My sister and I
raised a sparrow once
from nakedness to flight
by poking food down
its orange gullet every time
it opened its yellow clown mouth
and hollered.
i love your writing style...very cool.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Pete! And thanks for visiting!
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