January 1, 2008Gerry LaFemina
First squirrel of the year walks westward on its wire while the trees shudder then steady. In the middle of my sleep sirens woke me & then they, too, were gone. Now morning unpacks its suitcase of sunlight & the brilliant blue of promise mixes with regret. This is how the wind moves us all & pushes the moral of our story further into obscurity. Having gotten its invitation, a storm front will visit later, heading east as if to meet the day.
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