the bats fell like ash
across the five am grey sky
in silence always cars
waiting birds not fooled by
alterations to the clocks
mosquitos take a full hour
to waken I've time
to tend to beets to trees
and listen to the air
on my pillow eight to twelve
large spread paw prints
in dirt four toes
a fat pad I see it
treading in comfort while
I slept then notice
the daddy long legs
on the end of the pen
my nature is in the mornings
before this brain blows itself up
into new order rightness
before the spies of commerce
whistle and click
along the lines
Really a joy, Kerri = this stirring, and the last sestet wako!
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