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03 August 2012

Did you hear it?


My uneven design on
wood grain diary.
Quester lines reached upward,
rose, receded in efforted growth,
pattern on time nourished
creep or crush, sprint, spree,
flight and flee, lines in wood were life.
Her remnant of chemical compound intake
such remarkable humdrum, yon
quiet being
once stood sentry
moved by my ax.

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