Wednesday, October 09, 2013

Freedom



The squirrels nip
about the cooling lawn,
grabbing bits of the
seemingly undigestible.
We don't see
how they could
get any nutrition from this,
don't see the wisdom
in those big baby eyes.

We love them
with archaic love.
Let the love float
ineffectual around the front yard.
They are tough.
Make their living,
die.

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