AUGUST SOL

AUGUST SOL (& His Wife)

Salute the burning sky!

diaspheric hope
corrodes the interstices of motes
in a dead dog's eye

owls chew on the wings of eels
grapes are shored against the day's urn
of fossil fuel

another eye peals off from this world
but slinks back by supper
like a runaway child

Salute the Moon
patron saint of wiley squirrels
Fair Hope Harbor in sight
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