Thursday, June 6, 2013

Canyon Lake

It's brown,
I say
He says, Red
Two deer
Chewing loudly
Tails twitching
Ears flicking
Tongues clicking 
With the cicadas
I take a drink
One long swallow
From a tall
Stemmed glass of
Pale red wine
He says,
The moon is full
I say,
Not quite. 




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