In from the cold
at the first winter's blush
joeys
are pounding
down walls in the attic.
Only hours away from a marsupial dawn,
kangaroos are bouncing and bounding out of pouches
under the deep earthy gaze hollowed out
in the eyes of the bursiform mother of commonalty.
Half of my brain, treading waters of undoing
the other half undertow,
bobbing on waves of undreaming, unknowing, unschemeing,
amid billows, blankets,
and the surging of pillows
awash in the meaning
of their floating world deaths,
reconsidering the size of my trap
and intent of the spring.
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Comments: 16
Tie me Kangeroo down mate!
the other half undertow,//
Marvelous --- In large part because I identify ------ now perhaps I'll have words for it.
Very realistic, Atticus...I was relocated for the duration.
and intent of the spring..." (snap of a trap?)
I love a fair bit of obscurity, Sir, so please don't apologize. This is a rich piece of writing, and the second stanza does indeed float.
Because of your title "Relocation", I was picturing a tired field biologist, ready to be done with the marsupial dawn and get to the undoing to sleep... and dream.
.....tis the season, for some of us ...in perpetuity \;.}
My fond regards.