© Marie Marshall
love the contrast…the busyness and the watercolor sky…a bit of zen in the daily grind…
Got to spot it.
See… I thought the sirens were the cops coming to see about the smashed Caddy…. I really have to read the whole poem before I think about it…
How do you know they weren’t?
I often refer to the far-off sound of sirens as playing the devil’s violin.
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