Best Roundhouse Poems

Black squirrels bound skewways
from the house, shadowshifts
falling darkly on 
dusty white autumnal
snow. Paw prints run

makeshift memories soon 
snowed over. Leaping
on tree trunks they wind their
way upward on paths of birch
bark in quick roundhouse runs.

I watch them go from
a seat by the door
and eavesdrop on the
dripping...

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