Muddy Field
it’s been long since mammoths
sank to gouge these slurpy folds,
or the mud wolfed down a pterodactyl.
still, it harbors hints of these creatures,
stashed among other memorabilia,
a zoo Noah’s Ark never attained.
someday it will eat humans
and their flagrant vehicles too--
all those pockmarks of sole,
and crosshatches of truck tread--
the whole kit and caboodle
of mucky incoherent maze.
and then, stoic yet prophetic,
the palimpsest undramatic
will smile without smiling
under damselflies over rust.
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sole + soul
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