A few words


A few words
to keep my promise
to the page
to the pen
that runs like a small stream
through dark wooded tangles
Here coming upon
a small mammal
lapping, sipping
Its nocturnal eyes
taking in the glints
of filtered starlight
upon the quiet, sweet gurgle
Damp, bare twigs
every which way akimbo
create a thick tangle
only small critters,
the slow growth of moss,
and the inky stream
of my imagination
can travel through

Written in the southern New Mexico desert


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