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On Some Good Days
Mornings raise themselves up on stilts
and stalk away. There is a tractor,
a dog in dandelions. A stranger
releases every dollar store
balloon in the city and blots out
the rain. Whitecaps swallow
the shoreline. A chestnut drops,
a mass exodus of crows. Rubber
spools out behind the pick up,
your hand easy on the e-brake.
All my little hunches turn out
wrong. Everyone carries a cake.