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Whit Howland
Poems
Jan 2021
Run Rabbit Run
Screeching tires
and years of rubber left smoking
on the pavement
arms flail and sneakers scrape
the asphalt at an all-night basketball game
in the rain
a phone's rings
is like the staccato report
of a machine gun
a weatherman
through a scratchy transistor radio
forecasts a storm
fight
or flight
whit howland © 2021
An impressionistic word painting. An original
#blackmountainpoet
Written by
Whit Howland
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