Friday, February 27, 2009

right before act one

what a pot of lucky stew we bubble now-
the goat, the dwarf, the bitch, the shrew.

they crow across the barnyard's raucous stubble,
where hay is frost and chortles dew:

a mission of confidence clanged in cast iron,
the lid will silence the chosen few.

a frothing banquet of angled limbs
for this a solstice is simmering too.

1 comment:

  1. You have a very good understanding of projecting images in ones mind. I am thinking you have very good eye sight in your own mind's eye.