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Susan McDonough
Clouded
Thoughts
The sun isn't out and I am happy.
sol de sonoran is the deserts
most dependable perenniel.
Gray sky beckons me from my
air-conditioned oasis. Deeply,
I breathe in a hint of humidity
just the way I'd take in a wiff
of a 1999 Chehalem Pinot Noir .
The dog who stubbornly
refused to go outside yesterday
(it was only a hundred and twelve degrees)
is leisurely sprawled out on the straw-like
Bermuda. His eyes flutter closed,
all four legs in a dreamy gallop.
No doubt he's dreaming about
the rabbits five feet away, as they
linger over ragged mounds of Ruellia.
They look calm, oblivious to me--
maybe even to danger, though noses
twitch monitoring as they munch.
I'll assume from history that
outrunning superdog is a given.
But, I am curious to know
if they think that Harris Hawks
fly only in fair skies.
round I, poem 15, 31 Jul 2005
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