Dumb Feet


To address summer is fool’s gold – for the caped night
Is now being drawn. But the horned owl in the nightshade
Is a torch song with its “Hoo-hoo!” through these shade lands
And a sure guide for my dumb feet. In this landscape
      I will find you with a breeze-whisper of pyrrhics
      And a tongue full of the sun, lit with its spondees.

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