Contributor: Sean Lynch
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birds mate early
among wooden pillars
encircled by steel
hail mother of grass
virgin soil saturates
with cloud tears
fresh leaves mask the brown
underneath green small softness
below brittle death
the ancient tree bends
and belies a solid core
myself in reverse
the pure poet leaves
cicadas chirp in trees
in this vacant city
no memories now
umber skies and charcoal clouds
consume nostalgia
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Sean Lynch is a poet and editor who lives in South Philadelphia. You can find his work at swlynch.com
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