winter's allude

 

 

I did pretend. The condition of unrestrained motion, the rough sex without any commitment

that the squirrels play, then talk in the trees rubbing fur. And how sad I am unable to climb,

or cling, or hold onto nut in the tangle. How I couldn't possibly live thru winter when the ice

came or the highway made widows in the cold. And I confess, what I thought was play was

a mother exchanging warm saliva with her young. I haven't thought twice about the ones who

appeared at the back window, freckling, so markedly strange and shivering. And shooed away the

large males exhibition among the frozen, plastic dahlia's. And my dear, had you come back when

I begged you to, nothing like this but winter would have happened.

Reviews

[Corset]

I think I just flew into the glass, did you hear the thud? The crash? So you see the big ? over my head. How can one be so talented? I love squirrels, even the attic one that scramble around and act like ghosts.