The Road to Hi Hat

The Road to Hi Hat

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Sunrise hurt the cat-owl’s eyes.
Crows go to ground in the slim valley.
Past Hard Shell, around through Softshell’s
barnless swallows.

Transhumance
older than the hills: Up the mountain
in May to see the spindly sourwood flowers.
Down in the fall with the firelit honey.

Even the river stones
show early autumn: wet scarlet,
sugar-maple bronze.

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