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Dove-tailed by April Michelle Bratten

Dove-tailed by April Michelle Bratten

Poetry, Vol. 2.3, Sept. 2008

There are no trees to cast shadows
along a North Dakotan highway,
only stacks of hay,
patch of sunflower,
empty, empty.

I wish to linger inside a roll of hay,
as a passing thought, to smell of earth,
to sound like words that were swallowed
and never spoken.

My air is calm.
I am a silence that passes as a particle
in the scraps of daylight.
I stretch along the road.

The skyline breathes,
rising and falling as a blurred and broken line
that I stare at for far too long.

I will not touch it.

The sun sinks away
and I am left to contemplate the stars.
They stare back down at me,
blinking, uneasy.

The air is still.
It chokes.

Frost encases a blade of browned grass,
choking it, leaving it fighting for air.

It melts between my fingertips.

Les FenĂȘtres by Kristina Marie Darling

A Poem by Dean Young and Dean Koontz by CL Bledsoe

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