Argyle Foxes

Softer than gold,

Rougher than bricks.

So hard, so fast,

so short, so brisk.

 

Hibernation sets–

A string is pulled,

the seasons change;

A pillow turns,

the climate’s range–

 

I arch into this leather chair

I crack my neck, and pant–

One more reason to stay at home,

One less, also, to set the alarm,

all the more to stay up late

–I exhale.

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