The Old Woman

July 3, 2011
The old woman
She enticed us with folklore
Rich as the quilt she sewed
We went crackling through her telephone wires
Scattering flocks of ink-black crows

We swam through the gray area
Blurred the expanse between summer and fall
Dancing through sunbeams shattered by a sprinkler’s spray
Before autumn leaves covered it all

When we rode away with Indian braves
And red lipstick rimmed our winter days
No one to dust off proverbs
After pulling them off the shelves
So we trembled by the fireside
And reached for them ourselves

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