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Cave
Easter Morning 1991
 

It was not really a cave, not technically.
More like a bunch of boulders thrown one
atop another till they made a shelter.
When I crawled up and entered it, it
was mine, I owned it. I had discovered it.
No coyote here;
no bobcat, spray paint, or man.
I sang, chanted, hit rocks together.
I yelled my name, and no one heard.
But I heard. I was great all morning long.
There could have been beer cans, old shoes, con-
doms, newspapers, but there was nothing
there but me. I was protected, safe, and sound.
I was wearing my very own suit of stone.
Okay, okay there were rat droppings.
I noticed as I was leaving.
Kangaroo rat droppings.
Nature's candle drippings.
So to speak.



1991 Richard Lee


 
 

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