Arsenic Lobster poetry journal Issue Thirty
Winter 2012
 
Thirty Miles North of Forks
Joshua Rice

Humid pines prickle and fidget

against the breeze sweeping

crows’ black husks

to the power lines’ edge.



Crickets shuck themselves in the second-

growth logging swath wildflowers,

invisible as heat around stumps old

and naked and white-hot as driftwood.



A rabbit the color of dust tosses

itself away from the road’s white-

stitched seam, under a sky

sky-blue above the itchy pines.

About Joshua Rice

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