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In the spring my winter coat had gone
my name softly dissolved
by the false eyes of flowers
and a black dog
as for me, I've been here all along
pearls in the pine needles
black braids buried
like a soft hare sleeping in the snow
braided through the underbrush
like trapper wire, your motel face
turned my bonnet memories
to summer meat and left me
praying for my fingernails
praying for my mother
praying for the soft brown hare
wreaking havoc in the garden
copyright 2017
Kait
Jensen |
