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Jack B Apr 2016
wisps of hair float across your face
as you uproot a strand of prairie grass
and clasp your hands 'round it, bring it to your lips, and blow

In a wild meadow
I stand with you
in cutoff levis patches on the knees
cottonmouth and butterflies in my yellowbelly

Long after the cotton gin.
Still remains,
a thicket 'round your soul
;addition: and blow; the sweetest love song ever to enter my ears

— The End —