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Monday, February 17, 2014

poem || Jeff Harrison

Laurel's The Winter's Predator

O flea-bitten Viennese,
you disappeared in the field's wind
such an equestrian fresh-body insult
three-day frame for a 1000-year picture
lately I'm understanding the air, here's
the rain, there's the lake, here's me
writing laurel's the winter's predator:
poised... then... DROP summer
they tore Virginia to pieces but she
came back, to a scene desolate with jackals
induplicable wind is her sentence's darling
& jackals' commerce her grace decked
raindrop scrawl traced thoughtless, what
nursery paths are also chambers? it may
take some time to answer, it took but a
few seconds to make flesh & but millennia
to make plastic, luminously small waters do
devour the absent-minded lion & catches
jackals unawares, nor did Virginia escape

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