STTWVFLWSTSRH:

In another part of the world I am sure it means something
when the clouds fold in on themselves this way.
Here, however, we let it remain just another sunny day.
So we reach for another beer, walk the few steps
to the bottle-opener on the grill, and settle
for the pleasure of not knowing the name
of the singing bird, or where it nests
when the sun goes down, or what
the sleeping dog at our feet endured
before we discovered him out by the pipeline,
bones protruding but sturdy, grinning, tail wagging,
bright-eyed with unknowing all that is to come.

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2 thoughts on “STTWVFLWSTSRH:

  1. Isabel says:

    I love this with a great and mighty love.

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