838
in
April light last
at
sweet
potato harvest
strange
creatures
they
are shaped to be
mandrake
mad
with
cut snake soil
spade
lifted them to light
and
shall we pot?
I
see them in the soup
midwintering
for a fire of carbs
least
paws were animal at
then
the weather turned to stars
night
shone in its infinite distance
of
always beginning time
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