by D. F.
Stone rocks and
Plessy pocks, ‘member times of yore
Laid toes splayed on throes of deer men
Fading gore
Nippy wind glacéd grin melt ‘pon the
branch, felted moss bursting, trees leaves lurching
Guile fox, slink along the creek, sip and
drink, dip those feet, frazzle locks caught
In stream, sweet degrees, fragrant rays of sun,
Let them shine, deeply in-to spirit, silly fun
An in heat, gaily seat yourself on the
ground and feel,
sweetly eat and kiss the sun
© 2023 D.F. All rights reserved.
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