Sunday, March 15, 2015

Dyed

Dyed

Submerged,
my vision changes, 
the light refracts, 
and dreams compress.
The scaled prey
are leaner 
than they appeared
from the eroding bank.
My rubber hooves 
sink deep 
into the compost 
diffusing into the clear.
Through the tea 
I see a bitter horizon 
in the ice rubble
and the soaking leaves.

-Robert L. Jackson III



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