all night, the rats scatter
from the ivy under the porch –
warm-furred realizations of words
like skitter, like dart
all but the one, who watches
from the narrow tract of light
between parked cars, as I wipe
the dampness from my beer
and speak again of leaving
© Sarah Whiteley
I love the way you bring the rats to life Sarah, and that last line that takes it to a different place.
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Thank you!
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