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C B Heath
Poems
Apr 2013
Untitled
Waking up to chainsaws -
Morning the spluttering
engine of mourning. It's
in the name of truer
trees. Slicing the butter
trunks, dropping the chippings;
garnishing with finesse
my olive tree below.
8th piece for NaPoWriMo.
Written by
C B Heath
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Graced Lightning
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