Art

Rattled

I wind under oaks,not looking for dust scallops,not listening to leaf song,lost in brain chatter. Buzz. Red diamonds.I recoil in respect.She is faded to match late summer(except for the shock of black and white over her rattle),bent into defense, waitingfor a better venom victim thanunswallowable me. We do not blink. My thanks are awkward:me a […]

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