rik-rat corn pile

Friday, August 6, 2010

poem.

a pinkish hue
is floating down
a rocky, craggy creek.

devoid of fur
and lacking breath.

a floating mass of little death.

5 comments:

  1. most people around this subject sound bleak and forlorn, but to you, death is like the new bud in spring, or the dried cicada shell...just anada thing in this big blue world

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  2. well said, tom. thanks for the compliment. this lil' poem just poured out of me.

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  3. while letterboxing yesterday i came upon a small fluff of fur, which i soon discovered was a decimated raccoon tail - then i noticed the (dead) raccoon himself a few feet away. i wished i had my camera.

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  4. you need a fanny pack to carry all your letterboxing paraphenalia in.

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  5. ooooo, and what did the letterbox stamp look like?

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