oct 23 2009

the mountains now only dusted with snow
trees wave hello/goodbye in the warm breeze
sun brakes golden and hazily through them
thousands of skinny leafless birches
hold a stick to them, play their dusty bones
tones will reverberate, a great harpsichord zing
a screen door bangs startling open and shut
dogs are all howl and whine
and the cat flashes her speckled coat more orange than usual

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