Monday, November 28, 2011

ZIG ZAG












Zig Zag

Zig Zag really doesn't much,
it is pretty much straight through
as it lolls and waits on or digs out
from the winters toll

squat moss cabins tucked in with
 pallet wood smoke along this wet track
 of spent cinders and the spray
from endless brown snow melt,
hunkered down like porched wet dogs.

 a once celebrated brief reward
when you were mudded and done
with this pass up Barlow's hewn track.

It waits for you amid the trees with a tow truck
and a bright Dairy Queen, and at 40 miles per hour,
slowly it goes by quick on this last leg of the mighty trail.

11.28.2011

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