Dillon J. Welch

D i l l o n   J .   W e l c h

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Not What You Thought

You are a field of ducks.

On colder nights you lean

svelte stalks of grass

flat against the earth.

It is day

now & your evening

eyes have shrunken back

beneath the soil. Feathers

lie in array on the ground.

There is no order, just

what you think is order &

it seems so right you say

as ducks lift into the sky.