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Pieces

the vineyard by: l.s. Morgan

11/4/2019

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Smokey vines twist in the sky,
Like vines trying to reach heaven.
The stench lingers on the ground
everywhere , eyes cry, ears bleed.
Tongues cleave, sockets shrivel.
Stacks of dead rot
Back to the earth at least
Forever recycled.
Make more,
Make more,
More smoke,
More ashes
, 
More tears.
The war to be
In the valley-
Here I am merry

You gotta love this guy;
Hail him high.
Vines twist above us; above
Power fists


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  • About
    • Christopher P. Dum
    • Halle Neiderman
    • Bengt George
  • Chapbooks
  • Get Involved
  • Mentor Program
  • Mural
  • In the Community
  • Photovoice
  • Lake Erie
    • Pieces
    • Authors
  • Grafton
    • Pieces
    • Authors
  • Elkton
    • Pieces
    • Authors