Life buds before me
while cricket sounds debut
the coming out of flowered faces
pirouetting with the wind
Salt glazed to the lash,
shoulders shrug
Our first porch wooden, a fence
to dance the boundary lines clean
I keep at keeping up the lush
wetting the ground beading tears
Lungs starve for air,
chest raises
The parched twig a part of me
Canvased field brushed crimson
I keep the green growing,
busy my hands bustling dirt
Curved beneath cotton,
fingers clinch
It was she I couldn’t keep
Or she wouldn’t have,
She wouldn’t have used a gun that day
She wouldn't have left the lush
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