and big horses
shod
clopping water
spout to mane
quivers a river,
stout as a train:
the whistle
blow,
the thistle grow
a witches broom
all scraggly—
seagull rabid
on the jagged
rocks like
knives—
broad-feather
wood-pecker
working through
the snow,
digs the bugs
and knows.
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