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By gillfinn - About Me - E-mail this page - Add to My Favorites - Add to Blog List - See other blogs in Poetry

Tuesday, June 27, 2006

C ould Forest There are confused roots, reaching in every direction, driven, by memory of water. Pregnant night, righteous flash of thunder lightning drenches, steam mists, and a frogs throat swells. Limp limbs dip, heavy leaves curled, holding communal reservoirs. Nests of old species yet... Sign in to see full entry.

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