The little one is burnt and black
Motionless in a tree looks back
Rest on the cicada barrier
Arm cast lackadaisically over
The unnamed it didn’t matter
Wait a minute what’s she wearing
Why cast that way why is she there?
Bend time curl everything you know
Penetrate it like a remote cave
Save bats save yourself save light
Introduce yourself to Tommy Tomorrow
Say goodbye we were leaving anyway
Where music comes out so sweetly
Where summer comes from so loud
Rubbing rubbing the terms of reality.
© 2012 Rob Schackne
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