Morning Summons

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MORNING SUMMONS


Cold gravel bites my naked feet.

My coffee mug is in the truck,

but hey, I don’t have cancer yet, 

and both my parents have stuck 

around for now. A pebble's prick

proves adequate to call to mind 


the detrimental possibilities, this

and gratitude for their deterrence.

Above, Orion beckons in the chill,

and looking up I feel another form

of prick, but one for which I still,

regrettably, must wait a future hour.

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