& a child's hand-print on
picture window
& the guncocked held
on the shoulder.
& fire in the night
waiting, in a darkened house
for the cruel insane breed
from town to arrive
& come poking thru smoke
& fuel & ashes for milk
& the evil leer on their faces
barking w/triumph
Who will not stop them?
The hollow tree, where
we three slept & dreamed
in the movement of
whirling shadows & grass
Tired rustle of leaves
An oldman stirs the dancers
w/his old dance
darkening
swift shadows lean on the
meat of forest
to allow breathing.
Jim morrison
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