Monday, October 16, 2006

Tuning Worms.

The crow croaked out a melody
in perfect pitch, so he thought,
a blackbird heard and winced.
In the beat of the rain,
a frog listened, jealously green.

Sensing rainbeats, a worm paused,
staved off all molefears,
(sharp claws and teeth)
pushed through the sod
and out into the damp above.
Grabbed by a thrush,
then stretched
like a pink bass string
he finally snapped out at F sharp.

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