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Rated: E · Poetry · Animal · #2080671
He appeared unexpectedly in my garden.

I hoed the garden once again
since spring is preparation time,
(fresh vegetables for all to enjoy)
when I beheld a Siberian Mole
who popped up like a
shook brown-black soil everywhere
as he whirled like a dervish
caught in a fit, exposed yellow teeth
as if in madness warning me
that this hallowed ground was his...
I knew that he was far from home,
(that is to say not indigenous
  to these parts; indeed, a creature
  from Asia), and so I grimaced,
cocked my head and pointed a
a finger as I spoke to him directly,
not expecting him to understand
a wit my sincere words, still I was
prompted by surprise, and many times
I’ve tossed a few words skyward,
and so thus to this Siberian Mole
I spoke expressly, saying he was far
from home and asking with controlled
guffaw if he had burrowed straight 
through the Earth...alas, ‘twas no
response, but just a hiss and raspy clatter
as if a leather tongue was flapping
rapidly against aluminum downspouts.
Then he exposed what looked like
claws within hairy, wet
mud-covered paws and eyed
me with such piercing eyes
that glinted sharp
in April sun, and before
I could say another word,
he leaned like a thug with
underworld connections
against a tomato stake
and grinned again.

40 Lines
Writer’s Cramp
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2080671