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| >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Death >> ID #1671356 |
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A large tree- deep- in the forest Split when a lightning bolt hit. For two months it held together Until the weight became too much And the split section fell away With the tearing rattle of death— Sounds that I was not there to hear. But we hear what we do not hear— The cracking and thud of the hit, As life gives-way, and the broken Branches plummet to their purpose— Carving-out a wooden tombstone Serving to taunt our memory Into realizing our loss.
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