|
| |
Parade of Antlers
I pump my arms, my legs
through chlorinated fluidity,
hopeful of shaping up,
not shipping out.
up and down, side to side.
sinking weights.
still wet, dash off to my car.
vinyl and towels on the seat.
wouldn’t want to be pulled
over, wearing only a coverup,
but I want
for my shower.
to the top of the hill.
Oh! Deer!
spotted. no two. done.
no three. the fourth
has huge antlers. stops.
I’ve opened my window
so we can stare at each other.
we have our moment.
so four. no, five.
the final oh-deer
pulling up the rear,
not as robust as the last. done.
now, for the shower;
and to show hub’ the pics
of trees wagging tails,
antlers in the midst,
and the watered down animal
snapped in my itty bitty forest.
Copyright ©
Kim Rodrigues
|
|