Tuesday, July 21, 2015

Gusts, Number 21, Spring/Summer 2015

on the cusp
of my sixtieth year
I cast off
my spent carapace
in the moon-damp night

mule deer
resting in a thicket
by the slough
all over this world
the sound of guns

spring peepers
beside the swollen rill
how plaintive
the sound of longing
this anniversary night

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