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David Reddig
Poems
Apr 2017
land's end
a song of bones
or blood rushing through blackness
snow blankets the hills' rise and fall
stars shine unsteadily through empty trees
forming winter from memoryβ
this lonely state remains
knotted in bark and stone
as if made of hours
or the sound of the wind
Written by
David Reddig
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Ryan Holden
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