Thursday, June 30, 2011

Poetry

Home Improvement

An army of lawn tractors
standing at attention
under garish parking lot lights
silently plot their escape.

The Empty Pool

The water sits heavy in the pool
The thick air pressing its weight downward
The liquid glass pushing back to meet it.
Soon, all the ripples are gone.
Any trace lost
Of the nymphs and dragons that once played here.

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