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Flow

Rating: 2.8
Down the path between the apples
through the maple grove of suicides
then left at the old wall
along the wire fence to the brook-
bank where narcissus noses
into skunk cabbage and hepatica:
Call me Apollo, crashing in the underbrush
with my arrows, my bow saw and clippers
out for your flash of white tail and alert
to hack me a path to your lair, to your cult’s den,
crisscrossing the water with Phoebe again and again
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COMMENTS
Thaddeus Thierisch 11 January 2012
Fabulous Flow.
0 1 Reply

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