Sleepless as are
Those grasses
Still standing
By November
A moist wicking frost
Peals through
Once tongued creeks
While the deer
Retreat
To their
Upland beds
Which evidence
I hunt
Unarmed
And wake
In a scarlet
Dawning fever
The ridges
Have been
Redrawn
In my bones
Sinew sown
Inviting shadow
This season being
My true berth
Tightened
Tom McGlynn
copyright 2013
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