Sunflower Roots
poetry, personal reflections and musings
Saturday, January 11, 2014
A January of Small Stones 11
Waiting for dog in a dark alive
with ceaseless shifting pines in the wind,
the small brook swollen with rain
beats against its banks,
and behind it all
the mechanical clang and scrape of the dragline
on the mountain.
January 11, 2014
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smallstone
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