Tuesday, May 26, 2009

At the Dunkin Donuts parking lot

Four grackles make a donut dance.
First one cuts in and then the next,
and tossing high their heads, they catch
the crumbs of glossy minuet.

The cinnamon diminished by
sharp yellow beaks now grows as close
as earthbound herbs can get to sky:
A shift of wings and up all fly.

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