Bog Side 


Bog Side

Enough peat cloisters here

To last a dozen summers.

Faced upward in rust-brown robes,

It clusters at the viewing in

Spring coffins of morn.

___

I observe them bog side as

Every ode to life must do:

In reverence, at water’s edge,

Mosquito & dragonfly

Humming requiems & eulogies

To sparse congregants in

Sharp shades of lime,

Cognizant of time

Descending as a shadow,

Prepping for a Second Coming.

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