Rural Tragedy

A yellow-toothed moon
      primps in the mirror
            of Mid-western ponds.

Cats
             snake in and out
of red-faced barns
                      gone mad.

In Kansas-land...
      in the operating room
            of your dreams,
morning comes
                    dawn-drawn
by six gold stallions
            half-stepping
                    toward eternity.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2005

Poem

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