Here’s a poem (one of two) that deals with specific ambiguities for your reading pleasure.

Sometimes a strand of light in the golden afternoon

Seems to snap

And out flows oozing darkness

From its thin veins.

Then when you least expect it

Little Willing comes crashing through the bushes

With her easy muscled body

After a cat sunning himself

With one eye towards danger

And ready to leap away,

But my leash makes short radii

And she rejoins my side,

Cat forgotten.

Mike Stone

Raanana Israel

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