Sunday, November 9, 2014

Tuesday Poem: Part of the Post-deluvian Water Series


Many’s the time, Luna’s spied those
hovering metal hummingbirds overhead,
or buzzing by the windows over and over,
till Sol made an ugly face and gave them
the finger. Many’s the time the two of them
were moved to head into the thickest woods,
so as not to be watched any more, pretending to
heed the hunter’s call to enter the letup of leaf cover.

When they heard, at Kin Gather, about
the young ones squatting in Hill Wagon,
all three of them nullified, where they stood,
for smuggling, and it being the same
kind of drone, Sam shook, and Luna sobbed
until she fainted. From that day on, when the
buzz come, Luna had to lie down, and Sol
made an effort to smile and flash the peace sign.

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