spring dreams

In the last low long shadowed evening light
I am this forest, my ears moths coming to flight
I can feel the breath of plants pluck whisker
after different whisker the depth of coming night,
my back legs flex draw tight to a crouch
I ear, eye, pounce the first crunchy
juice filled cricket that sings for love

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1 Comment »

  1. Jilly said

    lovely

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