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Showing posts from May, 2008

THE FLYING SQUIRREL

The first trap held a leg. The flesh gnawed at the knee And pulled out at the hip. The denuded femur A translucent white, Needle thin bone, so frail Compared to the steel Will displayed. The second held a corpse. A delicate, large eyed Flyer, broken by the Copper snap. The blood stained fur And missing leg told The story well enough. I removed the tiny body Held it in my palm And weighed its fate. A ladle of pig iron on the foundry trunnion could not tip the scale.