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Untitled (2)

  • Writer: Soli Philander
    Soli Philander
  • Apr 22, 2022
  • 1 min read

The wind is blowing up a storm No surprise, in the District the norm The alarmed trees waving branches about Steel and mortar 'round corners shout The squat humps huddling on the field Struggling not human wards to yield And all around the currents surge As if this place of memory to purge SP

 
 
 

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