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Life on the Deckle Edge

She was a Poet

 

 

 

She was a poet

 

     sticks and stones

 

point blank

 

     may break my bones

 

and a mother -  

  airbag drenched in blood;

  stuffed animals, hanging limp from the glove box

 

     but words

 

"domestic terrorism..."

  "violently, willfully, and viciously ran over the ICE Officer..."

 

     can never hurt me

 

             She is dead.

 

---

Robyn Hood Black

 

-----

 Ruth has the Roundup today at there is no such thing as a godforsaken town, featuring a poet from these parts who is a dear friend of dear friends of ours, and whom I've had the pleasure of meeting - J. Drew Lanham. Thanks for hosting, Ruth.

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