S.Cawley #54 – Aug.23/13

“The lyric surge and strife of life is poetry.” Lawrence Ferlinghetti

The awning thingy on the deck is collapsing
from the weight of snow, but there’s nothing
to be done. It’s frozen in place and creating
all these cool shapes – stalactites or the
other ones – what are they called again? Stalagmites?
Every summer we promise ourselves that we will take it
down before it falls on someone’s head…
But here we are again, watching it bowing
under the load. It’s not exactly living dangerously
but it’s not exactly playing it safe either.
Honey? Did you let the dog out? In?


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