four from thursday

(1)

they call it cheating

because of short-cuts, bent rules.

and it isn’t fair.

(2)

today I read it,

your words all-of-a-sudden

strong, brief, painful, good.

(3)

what do I call this?

the wind shifts; I stand confused

at the path’s turning.

(4)

yellow leaves hide men

with black hearts, reaching

to scratch out my eyes.

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