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FAMILY TREE

By Leo Smith

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Up in knotted branches, where kin twist & turn,

A breeze dances through, a whisper soft yet stern.

The leaves grow bloody, fruit bitter & sickly sweet,

There, in solitude, they hang & dare not greet.

My neck heavily kissed with lariat splinters

My swan song, choreographed by twitching fingers.


 
 

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