Deer - Poem by Frank Pietru
Waking early, the new pills making
Me dance with an insipid insomnia,
Endless tango towards the detrude dawn.
I take the car to the sodden back roads,
Sullenly beautiful in the bare bark browns
Of the nascent Spring.
On a dirt farm road in Walkern I stop,
Mark time to Phil Woods, the cool
Alto urgency pushing the fragile light
Morning mist kisses the tree line and
Is gone, fickle, as elusive as love.
Smoking my last I see the colours bleed
The cold, a sudden light breeze gives motion
To the landscape and I see them, five or six,
Beyond the pines, like stone they obsever the
Observer then vanish into cover.
Just occasionally, it’s the small things
That give you the most hope.
Comments about Deer by Frank Pietru
Edgar Allan Poe
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