windrag : poetry : journal

:: f : w : i : w ::

back to class

spring deluge, after a summery week. plum blossom
time has passed its peak. i greet
old friends and meet new ones. the heart still beats
beneath this new striped shirt.

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next generation

out on a walk, pulling his wheeled elephant,
he spotted Abdul enjoying a smoke,
and slowed down, like he does for new-shaped dogs,
and gripped my finger tighter.

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shorty

night
poem
write
bed

homesteading

talk radio in
a plastic bag
keeps raccoons away
miss them now

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blackest

after nap, walking
“dadú, hold hand”
crow caws, boy answers
head turned left

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