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On an evening drive In early August There were crows in the sky. They were louder than usual. Two dogs on the ground gave chase.
On that evening drive I stopped the engine By the side of the road. The dogs stopped running as The crows found a tree to rest Their wings, but not their voices.
One crow was looking At me. In my mind It spoke. But it addressed me As dog that drives. In my mind The crow told me his name Was dog that flies. The two dogs By the side of the road didn’t speak.
The August evening Wind began to chill My bones. I started up The engine and pulled away. In the windshield mirror I saw the two dogs barking And scratching up at the tree. The talking crow barked back at them. |
Dog That Flies |
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All work within this periodical is copyrighted by the authors and Big Pond Rumour, January 2008. No part is to be copied or reproduced without the written consent of the authors and Big Pond Rumour Press. |