Emlyn Wentwhistle


Idaho


Up in Idaho
night's a starched taut canopy
all owl-hoot song and woodcock coo
presaging blear eyed dawn
and sombre praries dank with dew

Shoshone tears

moose trails saw through pine
wood shacks shake to leaf-blow
beaver tails all ungainly

hearth stones
cold to the touch
are bitter still

I've never been to Idaho

Submitted: Tuesday, May 21, 2013
Edited: Tuesday, May 21, 2013

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