shot glass
title
"... brevity is the soul of wit ..."
- William Shakespeare

Laura Grace Weldon


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Uneven Ground

He wants to fill in the pasture's low spots.
I say no, no, no
these are magic spaces.
When winter comes they ice overnight
to crunch like candy under toddler boots.
Each spring, puddles leap into being,
just deep enough to wriggle with tadpoles.
Drying into mud, they entice butterflies
to drink salts in a crowded aerial whiffle.
Why even anything out?
These depressions of ours
hold so much.