Impetus
The ancient four legged poem
had been premeditatedly cut loose
and now it haunts
the unready, frail and ailing poet.
It barks abruptly from underneath the lush hortensia bushes
shocking the blue light of an unready poet observations,
casting impetus over the faux peace,
rolling around aimlessly.
An apple of discord, fallen
from the mischievous bosom
of a spirited muse.
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