W I NTER DREAMS

Pasatiempo - - RANDOM ACTS - [ BY JOHN LORENZEN]

death stalks the night rat­tles and crouches through skele­tal trees & with­ered chamisa its frozen breath scours still streams search­ing for life to snuff out: those with fur, feath­ers — or none at all — will they sur­vive the night?

pre­cious lives had burst forth in spring rains, sum­mer storms, autumn rich­ness rainbow feath­ered who hunted un­der each leaf and bark crevice. now they are the hunted, ready to fall.

death stalks & plucks them from branches and dens — those with feath­ers puffed dream of mil­let, of last­ing through the dawn.

be­hind walls, in bed we blink at ceil­ings — al­ways three in the morn­ing death, an in­su­lated thing, we think — … while some­thing rat­tles at win­dow walls.

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