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Oct 2020
Faces perched in water
Like tense needles
On the branches of inundated fir trees,

And from the riveted
Mouth of the river
No words are spoken.

Instead, all of the want
Has flooded over her banks
Into the meadow.

All that once walked must now swim against her yearning undertow.
another word bank poem from class
Written by
essie  24/F/new york
(24/F/new york)   
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