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The Forest of Shadows and Clouds
I drive through the forest of shadows and clouds,
thinking out loud, about the wings of buzzards
that flap up and down through springtime leaves.
I saw three in flight. I’m deft as I creep in my car.
A meander of curves on this country bumpkin nook.
Mysterious and lovely, this living ghost of trees.
The hawks diminish its size, provoke the darkness.
I imagine the mean old apple trees and ruby slippers.
I coin it The Yellow Brick Road when I drive the kids.
It’s what is left when the rest of the land’s been developed.
It is a scary and pretty walk, dangerous and playful.
I breathe life through the confiture of this unspoiled remnant.
Copyright ©
Kim Rodrigues
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