poetry texts, poem archive at plagiarist.com

All day the blanket snapped and swelled
on the line, roused by a hot spring wind....
  From there it witnessed the first sparrow,
early flies lifting their sticky feet,
and a green haze on the south-sloping hills.
Clouds rose over the mountain....At dusk
I took the blanket in, and we slept,
restless, under its fragrant weight.

Added: 16 Jan 2002 | Last Read: 11 Oct 2008 5:37 PM | Viewed: 3466 times

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