0
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Renga 7

posted August 22, 2006 - 7:06pm
Renga 7

Orange pulped, juice seeping
into soil, he trails across
acres, leaving rind.

Rind of thought, now ant-covered--
put your ear to the ant-hole.

Listen to the old
stories whispered from old mouths
tinged with tobacco.

Tongue pressed hard against bitter
bark--wood ants warm throat hunting.

Author: Antonia Dwells
-A +A

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