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Mud Filter

would you break me?
stake me to my own actions?
would you tear me
limb from limb?
chop me down then
chop me up
in pieces on the
amber ground.

would you slay me?
burn me in the bed I’m making?
could you hear me
calling from six feet down?
my muffled voice
a tune filtered
through the Earth and mud
poking prickly notes
against the soles
of your feet.

i’d still sing for you.
even from the grave.

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