The Raw Of The World
Outside a window,
in the raw of the world
The wind,
a rustle of razors
through new leaves
And spring's
warm rain
waiting to explode
in the wake of thunder applause
Beneath
the ionized air
hovering above,
across green grass, more green
in contrast to a proscenium of grey
As a fox plays the silk light
for its better than even odds
against a rabbit no longer able
to outrun its shadow
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