April 16, 2011

I have these....(late, late doe, a deer a stag to leer) napowrimo 13 and more near...

to catch up
ketchup cats up
in the tree
poems from homes
tomes from me
where tongues rocket
keep rocks
little stones along
the way say the weight
of the sky weeping
seeping with a logjam
the melt
neat complete
the Sun high
climbing timing the
bony limbs reaching with me
and all these cast looks
fish hooks spilling bread
like words in line
on a tine
forked and mouthed
worn cuts and all
scrambled eggs already
after my fall...

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