Grapefruit. Yoko Ono dredges up a memory of the woods. There was a time when 5 meant waking up to an alarm and 8 indicated time for arriving at work. Then there is another situation. This was mine. Where is yours.
Juice; Between 5 and 8 O’clock
A low tone
Rumbles lonely
Through the trees
Of the wood
Of rough sleeping
An owl hoots
A fox patrols
By the copse
Where Pagans
Meet in August
John Barleycorn
Is dead again
Sacrificed
Buried by
A small tree stump
A cold chill
Permeating
The soiled quilt
Of lost nights
Gladly taken
As needs must
Action calls
Ignition
Traveling
To a service station
Embarrassed
Found solo
An asian man
Working late
Serves hot coffee
Returning
To the woods
A last chance
To sleep between
Hours 5 and 8
What to do
With day time
The long hours
Stretching out
In lonely town
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