sunlight moves like a broom
through wild worldspinning grass
the grackles in the trees are machines
tuning up & ready for the day’s
music no one would recognize
a heartbeat on the edge of familiar
songs written in dead languages
& trees that grow twisted on the plains
could be the old hair metal guitar
that escaped the pawnshop wall
James Brush is a teacher and writer who lives in Austin, TX. He tries to get outside as much as possible.
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[…] James Brush, Dead Letter Office […]
Wonderful! Visual imagery very deep and compelling.
Thank you. Glad you liked it.