Saturday, February 16, 2008

compromising

In the back seat of the mountain
boy's truck, I opened my eyes
and watched the fog drift over
the water, wished I was nearly anywhere
else, thought of ways to make the moment move
faster. The next night in the woods, we killed
a scrappy white rooster and it took so
long. When my turn came
to stick my hand inside and pull
something out, I just knelt down
and did it.

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