Copihue Poetry

dogs bark thrice
by the old mill mutt mutt bales
of hay dark silhouette no
light creating strange shapes demon
grass sucked dry mutt mutt
draw pasty lines squinting
rocking chair on dead porch I
feed ink demon trace the horns
a beat a beat mutt bark twice
riverrun past without
stopping to share the cold
glitter toad swept past leafboat
questioning sounds
from the door in the trees
windblow demon bark once old mill
dust floor-ash on dry grass and
I sleep, troubled.