image by Glenn Buttkus
More than Three
“Three can keep a secret, if two of them are dead.”
Center mass, between the eyes--
an important aspect of gator hunting
midst the humid dangers of the swamp.
When a person gives a damn,
often they join a crowd of protestors,
peacefully, until a shot rings out.
One stares for a minute
at a forest of pink pines
with purple pine cones.
I don’t think I’m being pushy
if I want to see the Milky Way
when I’m lucky to get a clear night sky.
My wife completely rocks hats.
She has several she’d never trade.
Her love for hats will never vanish.
I had to gulp and gasp,
staring at my left hand,
still sticky with her blood.
Something I will never quench,
is my love for a larch forest,
and my fascination with great rivers.
I now longer can remain quiet.
I need to feed the bears,
and let loose the sack of copperheads.
Posted over at d'Verse Poet's Pub