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Chickens the Weasel Killed
A passerby being fair about sacrifice,
with no program but walking,
no acrobat of salvation,
I couldn't help seeing the weasel
fasten on the throat.
Any vision isolates:
those chickens the weasel killed--
I hear them relax years from now,
subsiding while they threaten,
and then appeal to the ground
with their wings.
William Stafford
Posted over on William Stafford Archives
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