Tuesday, 22 May 2012


while coyote paused and pondered plunder
silver fox, on silent pads, sailed
over man-deep snow in the stolen
glow of a confederate moon, stopped,
listened and dove,
a coruscate shower in the candied quilt,
while, shivered deep below,
a smaller light snuffed out in a lurid flow

something died
but none cried
they’d seen it all before
on their panoramic wall

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