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Poem: “vigilante”

vigilante

big flake snow

covered the grave and the body

they had left in their haste

and the strawberry vine

grew up from his heart

over his neck and into his eyes

entwining his ankles and forearms

and winter sparrows flew down

to wonder at the stain

upon the sacred snow.

Patrick T. Reardon

4.10.19

This poem originally appeared in Aardwolf magazine in February, 1970.

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