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The Grass I Still Haven't Cut And won’t, before I move into town. I am finding animals every day in there, ones that were lost to the long lawns of outbuildings, the fields of development going slow. Now – a bunny (I love him so I call him bunny) emerging from the thick fur of green behind the mailbox. The delicate cat, plunging like a porpoise in those hearty stems, tips like peanut shells. Her eyes in that moment before fireworks go out, teeth warming with the mineral taste of a mouse caught in the burnpile. Does she check me for fear or stealing? Or hunt or predator or alien or wishing? Or just, “hello animal.” Like we do, like we do every day. Amanda Jean Bailey, 2010 Published in Spiral Orb One: https://www.spiralorb.net/one |
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