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He smells like wood grain on days that taste like alone
October 16, 2011
and he says maybe it’s a good thing,
A good thing that I can’t hear the trees anymore
so maybe I can hear him better.
But I wanted both,
the hieroglyphs in the sky and the first dance in the dust.
The trees spoke of him, years ago.
Now he speaks of better-off
and he smells like wood grain.
© Karen P., Amherst, NY
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