A crooked line of geese flaps by
and undulates across the sky
as though a snake had learned to fly
exploring wispy curls of gray
that pass for clouds this autumn day
while winter surely heads our way
if only I could somehow wake
and levitate just like that snake
oh what a grand escape I'd make
beyond the land of living dead
where I can shuck this shameful dread
a mottled skin that must be shed.
Are You Reading Me?
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