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Month 1:13

When I can’t think of the one word I want to say, I feel like

that idiot squirrel who tries to stabilize his entire weight

on the hammock strung between two trees, scampering up into

the listing seat, losing balance, tail flailing, then falling off the edge

of the canvas. Again and again, trying to control that listing.

by Therese L. Broderick

About ThereseLBroderick

Independent community poet living in Albany, New York USA.

One response »

  1. Not sure I’m familiar with your squirrel but I know the feeling!


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