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"the hills were on fire and the wildlife had gathered"
More Perihelion:
Bob Sward's Writer's Friendship Series Book Reviews Need to Know
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Issue
15: To the New
Issue
14: The Double Issue
Issue
13: Free Form
Issue
12: The Necessary Ear
Issue
11: The Necessary Eye
Issue 10: Out on a Limb
Issue 9: The Missing Body
Issue 8: The Lily
Issue 7: Passages
Issue 6: No More Tears
| | Allan Peterson
You Helpless
The holly dentate, the bald elm grimacing,
ragged threats and toothed smiles by thousands,
delicate boxwoods trimmed into animals.
Seeing them at sundown you'd think
the hills were on fire and the wildlife had gathered
to ask for protection, for help overcoming
their stationary fear of such blazing vermilions.
Then you look down and see your shoes
making hooves of your feet, stamping and anxious
as one of them, with a bad ear, a good side.
The Usual Horses
One thing entry to another:
a death cake protecting a corpse viewing,
ocean going emerald to ash
saying preciousness is change:
the picture taken too soon from developers,
so that persons expected do not appear:
loon that took the bait by mistake
taking Jason a hundred yards
from a man hunting dinner to a boat
harnessed to a bird:
the usual horses back grazing back in the yard,
brass dogs still holding the door.
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