In February light


in a
distant
riverine
biosphere
an Indian
boy flashes
ethnic butt
as he steps
out of his
wood canoe
and lifts
his flute
to his
lips

wrong,
it's only
you,
a local
sky-being
trapped in a
peach-fuzz
bathrobe,
reaching out
the kitchen
window to fill
the birdfeeder
while February
light shines
quietly upon
your super
thighs

 

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