Thanks to Deborah Brown for the photograph.

the recalcitrant harvest men move
gingerly across tripwires
high-stepping through fields
that shimmer invisibly in the evening sun
behind corners of forgotten dusts
they shine dull with shadows impune
in each motion a tale is woven
of which the end is known
reckless free with no discretion
move in concentric circles closer
to an everlasting introduction
smiling the the palace of corpses
they feast as a crimson sun sets


One thought on “Harvestmen

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