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Summer’s Last Exhale
Summer’s Last Exhale How it shifts in a flash, the sun’s face bled to the edge of anemia, and I can stand under its living stare and not wither. Half a fortnight ago and just clipping shrubs would see my shirt soaked with salty sweat, but now my toes are numb and all has moved winterward. Jinx the fake heeler sits hard by my feet, spots like bullet holes along his flank, and I wonder what arcane and occult runes I might discover if I connected them in a certain way, perhaps using my sinister hand? At least I wouldn’t have to fear immolation as a witch, because witches have…
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Last Week Of Spring
Dog in my rear-view His stare pleads with me to stay But he will wait there. Black cows belly deep In the jade-surfaced stock pond Comfort found, taken. Deer leaps in my path Legs trembling, eyes beseeching Go romp one more day. ~ S.K. Orr
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Sad Serene
The sad, serene lakes of my youth the cypress knees like temples rising out of the tea-brown waters, the golden ladder of heaven propped at a forty-five degree angle from window to table, and I could see graduated beings lifting and withdrawing in the moss. ~ by S.K. Orr
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The One Remaining
The One Remaining A Haiku for Dixee Now I roam the rooms Scents of memory from when We were Bumpasses. ~ by S.K. Orr