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Haddie Brenner
Poems
Dec 2016
Roots
The hand on time,
Is not, not mine.
Moving the dial,
Not moving the dial,
Not moving the dial.
So I stay,
Rotating round and round,
Into the ground, into the ground.
I'm planted, no roots, no bark,
Half buried, half alive.
Written by
Haddie Brenner
London
(London)
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