Cirque de Squirrel

There was a day I too could dance
atop a taut dark line drawn with a single
confident slash across the sky

And I could hang by my heels and catch
lithe waist or ankle with a flick of finger
sparkle of smile, wink of my eye

And I would inhale that randy perfume behind
her ear embrace her sweet ripe everything
and happy them harvest home

But this was about that black squirrel’s dance
atop a taut dark line drawn with a single
confident dash across this poem.


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About riverwriter

Poet, playwright, duplicate bridge player, website designer, cottager, husband, father, grandfather, former athlete, carpenter, computer helper for my friends, theatre designer, backstage polymath, retired teacher of highschool English, drama, art, a baritone singer in a barbershop quartet, who knows what else? wordcurrents is on Facebook: Doug also has a Facebook page, "Incognitio", related to his novels.
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1 Response to Cirque de Squirrel

  1. maryanne pankhurst says:

    a great illustration of intersections in the brain. the this her, and the once. Very lovely

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