It's funny how she rises long before dawn,
and not much after the rooster's crowed,
her hair sticking up in twelve directions,
her tie-died long johns and levis jacket
are her only protection from the night chill,
and four insistent pooches
pecking her with their noses,
demanding release from their confines
to pee, just as she already has,
she must pick through a mountain of laundry
only able to extract one red and one black sock.
In her backwoods attire,
and in the company of leg pecking, rock-chasing,
bush and grass-peeing, stick-biting canines,
she will walk her catwalk,
the gravel road out back,
for the viewing pleasure of skunk, fox, chickadee,
and the occasional town water man.
Established:
February 2002
Any questions regarding this site or its activity is welcome, email me at poetrykk@yahoo.com
February 10 to February 16, 2002
