Thursday, April 9, 2009

mud morn

marsh mud
oozed brown
between her
five quiet
toes
as a dozing
egret stood
stock still
in the lively
pink morn.

everything
ablaze and
perfumed
in a shimmer/
ing gold light
of redolent
scent
when one
early dawn
blew us
away
like dozens
of oak
leaves
spinning
aloft and
so wild
under
the spell
of a storm.

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