Sherry Chandler » Groundhog
Groundhog
from The Groundhog
In June, amid the golden fields,
I saw a groundhog lying dead.
Dead lay he; my senses shook,
And mind outshot our naked frailty.
There lowly in the vigorous summer
His form began its senseless change,
And made my senses waver dim
Seeing nature ferocious in him.
Inspecting close his maggots’ might
And seething cauldron of his being,
Half with loathing, half with a strange love,
I poked him with an angry stick.
— Richard Eberhart
Read the rest at Poetry Out Loud.
Via Rebecca, let this be my entry in the Third Annual Brigid of Cyberspace Poetry Reading
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