Midnight Clock
now is the time
for fading
allowing myself
to join vines
running up the wall
out onto the yard
I make
my mad dash
for the darkened
tree line
never to be caught
in snares again.
What I Am Like
he tells me
I am like a flower
in a field
a precious blooming daisy
what he doesn’t
know
is how this
flower feels
about
the fertilizer
he heaps on.
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