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The Werewolf's Garden

The werewolf's garden is an enigma

The ground remains intact

Untouched by plow or horn

But under the  wild red plum trees

The Hackberries

The Pecans

Grow wild onions and lambs' quarters

Devil's claws delicious and treacherous

Dandelions as succulent as the dawn

The blue bird house meant for purple martens

Has been taken over by honeybees

And honey drips upon the ground

Nothing is cultivated

But rises unbidden from discarded fruit pits and rotting leaves

The second silver dollar moon in a month

Glints off the caps of the newborn mushrooms

Like one pearl nodding to another

Green doves nestled in the eaves

Watch unconcerned as the hair thickens and the snout grows long

It is incongruous

But earrings still dangle

From ears now perched high on the head and tufted with fur

Only fish see her drink naked from their pool

Undressed themselves they hardly notice

Meanwhile some answers grow lonely with waiting

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