Soaring Feather
Since Nov 16, 2001

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Of Broomsticks and Thistles
and old bones that rattle
down old dirt roads
driving rusty old jalopies
white with dust and time
while
grey headed ghosts
turn with a grin
a toothy smile he smiles
at the two of them
he looks straight thru them
as an xray machine
and counts the vertabre line by line
quickly he turns with a jerk and a shout
his pig nose exposes an obnoxious smirk
his hollow eyes gleam red
and
down this dirt road
everyone is dead.

(C) soaring feather
7/4/2014