Tuesday, February 20, 2007

Fly Right

A so-small space,
but barely there,
downed Charlie saw-
an infinitesimal interval
twixt hem and haw,
where a hummingbird
hummed and hovered,
brief-fixed in space,
about a pear blossom.

An admonition adequate enough
to redirect clowny Chuck's
old-hat, centripetal stuff,
a drone most noisome 'bout
how many sons he'd seen
grow gray and old alone.

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