Running at dawn around the lake’s
short loop growing a novel in my
chest, it’s my hobby, as childlike as
jealousy when someone else gets
to go first. The young trees were
gnawed down by beavers or muskrats,
it’s their hobby, so the varmints were
trapped by some guy hired as pest
control. Supposedly he released the
critters to state game land to play
whatever games beavers or muskrats
play running at dawn around another
lake’s loop growing a novel in their
chests as childlike as jealousy where
someone else got to go first.
sketchingwords.com 