Monday, June 16, 2014


It never snows in Marin
except for when it snows. 
Then it snows all afternoon. 
I rode a green colt in the lower field.
It was June and it began to snow
all afternoon, in summer, it snowed.
The horse, a silly dapple grey 
with less brains than brawn, 
mistook his equipage for shadows
tried to kick the snow flurries away. 
Blackbirds wove tight circles
and sang in the branches of the oaks,
The pale dry grass listened 
to its own conclusion as the snow
turned to unseasonable blooms in summer.

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