Field
I walk to a far high corner
after dark
to get away from the too long
too short day,
where I hear sharp sharp sharp
at the corner of
my ear,
coyote barks.
I know to walk slowly sharp sharp only
run.
Sharp.
Faster.
Feeling soon enough sharp sharp
sick
with the stupidity of sharp sharp
running, also, sharp
my speed, also sharp
my lack of speed–
how can this sharp sharp
be sharp—
me–
until impossibly sharp sharp
I pant sharp
into the (muted sharp sharp) shadow of
the halo (sharp)
of house lights
panting,
and hearing now (sharp)
that it must really (sharp)
be cornering (sharp)
some other
creature
panting (sharp sharp)
too.
**************************************
A draft poem just because. Linking to Real Toads Open Platform. Yes, it was terrifying. Yes, I should not have run, though all worked out perfectly well. Pic from beginning of walk, before climb (or run!)
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