Monday, July 27, 2020



—I’VE BEEN TRYNA FILL UP ALL THIS EMPTY


Thicket

I watched a
fawn traipse
through the lawn
this morning
agile and uncertain
yet graceful like a
dancer pointing
in her shoes
each tic of sound
causing her to test
the air the way
the hunted never
trust the trees
I let her take down
every plant and flower
because she was
such a beauty
a bit of wonder and
magic wearing fur
with those
foxglove-looking ears
that glistening wet nose
and when I
opened the window
she remained in a
state of repose
her eyes fixated
eyes like two
shimmering
brown moons
so I read her the
poem in my head
with all the inflection
and feeling I’d believed
while writing it
and after I finished
she gave me a nod
and smiled before
disappearing
into the thicket
like the fickle
ghost of joy

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