sunrise over natchitoches

3rd place winner in Argus 1996

empty, sluggish,
the sun emerges, revealing
sky clear and blank,
pure and grey, innocuous.
the horizon hold no hollow
surprises, nothing as unpredictable
as a slow shedding of dark,
clothing itself in shades of
sullen blue and simple.
the clouds hand, suspended
by godstring, gasps of
hot, close breath,
drifting slowly to where
the cane makes its muddy march,
like dark, sweet syrup
or a dull, fat worm.

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