restricted access The Stream at Jackass Meadow
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45 The Stream at Jackass Meadow for John Along the muddy bank where logs Lay stretched, the water held its breath While insects swooped to plant their eggs. You strung the fish on severed twigs That threaded through the gill and mouth; We carried them along the path, Their bodies curling, nearing death. With eyes moon-colored, dreamless, blank, Each rainbow gaped in ebbing froth, And weakly slapped against the sink, Inhaling air, their cruel drink— While at the screen, a green-eyed moth, The moon above it, to the south, Reduced its wings to ragged cloth. All night we lay next to the flame, Our bones and flesh together sliding, Like the river slowly gliding Across smooth stones.The moon was fading Behind the narrow pines, or hiding Its sated belly, like a dream, Drawn down into the fish-filled stream. ...

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