Sunday, July 26, 2020

John Zedolik writes

The Reins
Two pigs, one unleashed,
have purpose in the park—

acorns under the civic oaks
that bear their bounty every fall—

so snouts to the grass and straight
to the trunk, reined slightly back or not,

nimble even carrying their weight
upon hooves peeping between the blades,

the tender, upright and obedient,
follows to the source, a glutton

for the gathering of two intent
upon the yet-giving earth

whose final skin peels off
under their snuffle and twitch,

yielding to those whose appetite
and will masses with much greater press. 

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