these late afternoons
in the hammock
between the trees
are supposed to
lend themselves
to flashes of
poetic inspiration
what with me relaxed
in the warmth of a
dappled patch of sun
penetrating the cocoon
of branches and leaves
and the steady rocking
of a slow wind

instead i end up with
minor lower back pain
wind-cooled extremities
and a dribble of drool
dried to my cheek

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