SO COY AT THE HANGING
We all were; not just me. The scaffold
was built, with the heavy trap-door,
meaning business from its very first
day. Incredibly, some of the wood
was, or appeared to be, where the
hand would rest, really gouged up;
as if by fevered fists and fingernails,
reluctant to leave this land forever.
Oh man, this sorrow is a
long, wide blanket
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