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The poems
- ordinary poets
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- the light side
© 2010-2013
muskrats
I miss the muskrats
(As I am flung here
Far away from home)
Miss the arrow of their untroubled flight
Across the pond
Paddling through ribbons of dawn
Criss-crossing ink-dark waters
In the icy quiet of woods
Now stripped of leaves for winter
They glide liquidly
Like thieves out of glass
Onto slivers of log
In the first morning light
Sleek and oiled
Polishing and preening
Their silky auburn fur
Sometimes there is one
Sometimes two
They perch, without a sound
And no apparent strategy
Peacefully taking in the dawn
There is no other reason they are there
I am sure of it
