Reasons for the season

can seem threadbare
down-right holey

a door opening in a tree
nothing coming out

nights when frost gets lost
in drawing ferns

a fly on the windowsill
rubbing the dust from its eyes

a feral cat hunting voles
the fear in their fur

a joy glossy as bitumen
playing for small change

on one roof two dishes
set out for the same satellite

above the hospital
a cemetery angel

stone wings growing
a new green coat

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