Parallel access – poem

There was a frontage road once in a while

and a set of unnamed seedlings

sunning under their sunhats.

Someone ignored the powerlines

or rather, the powerbill. There was

a feeder road with a feathered tail

that clutched at decision

so hard it’s plumes went corkscrew.

The where of some salted in

it’s unknown future, meanwhile

the bicycle wheels worked fine,

meanwhile the sun stirred the sky

like a woodstick in honeyed tea.


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