A Wayfaring Dog Barks
The day is now mid sun
hangs half between flowers
and clouds
no hangovers, the day
simply
happens with a sinking
sun
and the bowl lies inverted
an empty misshapen
vessel
I go to innards of self
with drums beating by
there is hope that two
selves
can meet up ladders of a
world
that becomes crankier by the
minute
You and I can only hope
to meet in half streets or half
truths
as a wayfaring dog barks.
Setting Sun -- Maggie Hurley
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