Porcupine

On a summer night in the Wallowas,
A massive porcupine waddles,
Brimming in his ease,
By the stream below my tent.

Unencumbered by sentiments of hurry,
Nose near to where his parents lie,
He pauses and looks at me.

Up armored and solitary,
Dim blueblack and fading he passes,
Unfull of my whirring measels of memory.

The star hungry night stops
it’s descent as he walks by.

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