Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
The hillside-- a cardboard box. And companies cut with exact-o knives along the edges, removing the center. Then, carry the useful pieces to me, for my white pine realty. Leave the scraps to warm under an unshielded sun. Burn, blacken, gradually regrow.
0
May 14, 2014
May 14, 2014 at 4:22 PM UTC
Americans and their forests
The hillside-- a cardboard box. And companies cut with exact-o knives along the edges, removing the center. Then, carry the useful pieces to me, for my white pine realty. Leave the scraps to warm under an unshielded sun. Burn, blacken, gradually regrow.
madeleine-toerne
Written by
May 14, 2014
May 14, 2014 at 4:22 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem