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.
Bravo.
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