By Brent Schaeffer, Seattle
At recess he told me
how eating spaghetti-o's
he saw Sasquatch out his window.
His dad was snowblowing
the driveway on a big white day,
and as he passed the window,
carhartt coveralls disappearing in a swirl
of powder, Terry took another scoop
of starchy, sticky soup in time
to look up and see-
screaming was useless,
the glass, the roar of the machine,
and no one ever believed him-
the tall white shoulder
heavy against the house.
Poems must include the writer's name, phone number and address. They should be kept to no more than 300 words. Submission of a poem does not guarantee publication. Poems may be e-mailed to firstname.lastname@example.org, faxed to 283-3299, delivered to the Clarion at 150 Trading Bay Road or mailed to P.O. Box 3009, Kenai, AK 99611.
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