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A Contestation of Signs

Josh Gregory


mists move


the leaves

are falling down

a dying deer


by the bike path. A girl was singing slow on the porch

while someone cried.

Many crickets must not make sound.


In the impending dark we practice

under stadium lights


brings the hockey pucks in his backpack

) I saw

a cat sitting on a cinder

block as the sun set


Trees rifle. Breeze-black

fire rising beyond the night-round rink.

I barely heard a twig snap, then

a twig snaps.


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