CAROLINE, MY HANDS
There was an eagle in the sky above me,
glinting like a Summer sun. A long, slow
flash, as it went by. I wondered what it spied.
Would it see chilled fish in the lake, and
swoop down to reach that negative space?
Darting a heart into watery film?
-
The rest of the world seemed oblivious:
the trees, now bare, stood by; a silent
audience of stools and chairs to be.
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