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Voices from the Rubble

I am through with this earth

and its twisted roots

wringing our veins

the soil has molded like wheat

frosting our vision and taste

every street has run counter to our travels

our hearts have been drained into the seas.

It is time for us

to dig

unearth the earth from itself.

from Seasons of Lotus, Seasons of BoneFind it in the library

Copyright © BOA Editions, Ltd 2009
Used with the permission of The Permissions Company, Inc.
on behalf of BOA Editions LTD.

Published in Matthew Shenoda Poems

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