Thursday, March 15, 2012

Down The Road

Down the road and no one's home,
willows stalk the ditches' foam,
saplings spring and grasses sing
where deer in twilight meadows roam.

Down the road a coyote sings,
moonlight glints on owls' wings,
windows dark stare blank and mark
a land where only bear are kings.

Down the road the forests close.
Broken fences decompose.
'Round its stones, past crumbled homes
and bones the river, laughing, flows.

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