 |
 |
a five year old boy, black as coal, weilds a stockwhip in the yard. It's shortened for him- still he makes it crack lightning and thunder. on the cyclone fence a black crow steps gingerly toward the chirping chittering willy-willy-wagtail whose lifelong mate skips and hops in the waterfall of a plastic sprinkler to settle the dust. I'm a cityslicker in an exotic world again, breathing in true bulldust, watching out for King Browns.