This is just poetry. It won't save you, but it may locate you so that a rescue party can be sent out. — Dean Blehert

Friday, May 1, 2009


The clouds break open.
Sunbeams streak up each tree
like golden squirrels.

[Note: Though spots of sunlight (still infiltrated by cloud shade) remind me of squirrels as they dart up tree trunks, the squirrels spiral around the trunk as they "streak" -- trying to evade our viewing them. And by name, they are shadows, not sun: "Squirrel" derives from two Greek words meaning "shadow tail."]

Dean Blehert
Blogs: (short poems) (essays and longer poems)
New book (Deanotations, Volume 1) available at

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