shaping, forming, throwing
another lighter hits the rubbish bin
the Golden Eagle feasts
on buckshot ridden flesh
wings that span the circumfrence of the globe
geese return to land on still waters
the surface reveals no evidence
of any such turmoil that may exist
on the ocean floor
tin can bed pans and a rusty model T
relics of a race that once dominated
now those who remain
laugh into the darkness holding their bellies
giving back
plant the seed
nourish both flower and weed
ears to the ground
listen to the future grow
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