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I throw my words to the compost heap with the rinds of so many others. The poetry that has been deciphered til there is no surprise left. I ***** them in to incubate and fertilize the fields of my heart. Then I shall glean them to harvest the poems of my Soul.
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Aug 28, 2014
Aug 28, 2014 at 6:56 PM UTC
Compost
I throw my words to the compost heap with the rinds of so many others. The poetry that has been deciphered til there is no surprise left. I ***** them in to incubate and fertilize the fields of my heart. Then I shall glean them to harvest the poems of my Soul.
karen-newell
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Aug 28, 2014
Aug 28, 2014 at 6:56 PM UTC
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