Haunches.

Stiff as a black legged tick that took hold 

of capillary action during the scented exiting 

of a seasonal fall fast approaching 

from furskin to the inside shackled love.

——–

arching to watch the swan dive lurching  

between the smelted crowns in and amongst 

the waves as Fires rage all around oxidante.

——-

Visiting the viewfinder without 

you in the framed lens.

——-