Friday, August 10, 2007

Here's To You, Pancake

i watch the fireflies carefully navigate the heavy autumn dusk - stormy blue and seldom green

the warmth taken with it--even the shattered boards logged with cool moisture and pieces of blood and skin cashed for splinters

the grass, grown pale from too many lightning bolts -- reduced to shadows...

...the strange house with no lights - - eyes adjusted and waiting

the sound of footsteps...a single blast from a shotgun and our ears ring for so long that the silence goes unnoticed...

...even now

Tuesday, August 7, 2007

Listen to that sound? Hear that sound? Getting in an out of trees? That flop-flop sound? Mm, that sound will sure mistake you for turkeys. Listen. Hear that flop-flop. Limbs breaking. Hear that good flop, then? Listening to that gives me the turkey fever. Mm, I wish there were as many turkeys as there are buzzards.