Wrong Element

by Aidan Andrew Dun

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One ugly black
triangle of leather
lifting slowly
to precede the other
where the scarred
film of late-summer
lawn is cartwheeled-
over by leaves:
it is the huge
ungainly swan-bird
stepping down to
the round pond
feet incongruous
on the ground as
fallen green to
the eye which follows:
painful geriatric
progress of a giant
towards a liquid
paradise beyond.






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