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six more feet to go, and Daisies.

ah, feel the mellow holes left in
you as the Autumn winds quip
with dancing leaves and shadows
stretching for miles and miles and miles

and she whispers secrets and
from caustic nooks they arrive
in bundles and bundles and bundles

malfeasance and fraud spill over
her timid edges. and children from
other lives are stolen away.

but there needn’t be any worry.

ah i see there is frost on us. carving
edges in the window panes. glass devours
glass and we try to shake this. and

we wonder how many fields separate
us from them. there is security in
exodus. and there is always blood

under that sycamore tree. and i
recall ghosts and spirits of them
gone, long, long before me

ah, but it was there ‘neath her shade
as a young woman’s soul was
stolen from her, unaware.

strangely, her rapist paused
momentarily to brush the
disheveled bangs from her face.

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