full circle in the hundred acre wood

Tangled in soft yellow cotton knit sheets

One foot stuck out in the air, bony weather vane.

Dawn’s thin line under the drape,

Bright as a bracelet. 


One vision left, I slipped back to that twilight world

Saw safety on my side of the road, danger on the other.

That knowledge tree is for grown-up tastes.

I saw the triangle-headed viper only a hop, skip and jump away.


 “It’s a crooked stick,” they all said.

But the hood twitched. I saw it.


Stone lions guarding that path were by turns solid,

Translucent, transparent.


The young girl broke from my grasp.

I cried, “No!”

She ran to them, calling “Kitty!” and they smiled,

Foamy pink.



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