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Whit Howland
Poems
May 2020
Cap Gun
The smell was sweet
when you dropped
the hammer on that roll
of red ribbon
making the gunpowder
puff
and it almost smelled like success
when you watched
your imaginary foe
grab his chest
and fold over
that hitching post
Whit Howland © 2020
An original
#blackmountainpoet
Written by
Whit Howland
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