Tuesday, February 5, 2008
Unsun afternoon wind through cedar and broken window glass clanks unmercifully unfallen. Burnt red branches tiny tendrils of heat burnt growth demand a gaze. Mud tracks broken plastic bucket overflowing with aluminum afterlives. Swing merges with ditch run down full of slime a toy truck and putrid water. We play here. Wooden pathway is merging with swampland its stink a call for reparations. No breeze strong enough.
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