Three Poems

Fire Flies   Warm dusks on which the fire flies display their bright hormonal stars, like cold nights when the eyes of foxes burn through snow. Roasted sunflower seeds saved, like brown ticks, in a jar. The black rose bent on her stem like she’s buying a car. The tree standing shyly at the edge of the road like she’s earned a degree from an accredited online university. The bird perched on a weed, intoning like she’s reciting Shakespeare into the ear of a sow. The now and the now. The cow, chewing her cud in the far field,...

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