Along Foster Thurston

Poem By Susie Bowers

trees bow down
backs ice heavy

anticipating crevices, bumps
nothing like that dream last night: on top of the train, remember

jump off into a field: you shiny and glittery and short
the grain long, laughing and swishy

fly to look at the pattern below
your life,

a tiny soap bubble floating above a pointed spear
drops to the middle of a crop circle and the earth

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