RPS students have launched the Roosevelt Times under the auspices of the RPS Newspaper Club, led by kindergarten teacher Larisa Bondy. The following is an excerpt from their December 19 edition.
Buzzards wheel above our town
dipping feather wands as if witching for water. Black tips read the air, its sun-ripple scent-current Braille, and conjure the underground body who responds, finding its artesian way through layers of rock and dark to the sky. They sled the air, brake on the steel rail circling the water-tower tank, our turkey buzzards watching over the town. They survey the round world for death that they may take it from us. True lies. We don’t know minds that might wish not to know ours, eyes we cannot see that see ours. Ripened fruits of darkness, they refuse to be eaten by this poem. Perched on the high carousel, patient as steel they wait for the carnival ride to start, watching our random walk through the park. They scan the snow one ruffling feathers at its pretense of sky? Another salivating at water holding its breath like death? The rail sings in the wind as the buzzards begin turning on its center whirling these immense worlds till unknown minds at play or fixed on love or war skiffle feather tips and soar from this poem. --David Herrstrom |
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