The Carrion Of The Trees
E
Emmanuel George Cefai
0
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The carrion of the trees
The
Teeth
Of
The
Trees
Are
Sick
Many
Of
Them
Though
The
Trees
Loaded
Be
With
Age
More
Than
With
Fruits
Yet
Year
By
Year
Year
After
Year
They
Fall
And
Lie
Rotten
In
The
Purple
Skies
Rotten
Be
Rotten
I
Will
The
Drums
Of
Days
That
Were
Of
Sun
Are
Now
Afar
And
With
The
Fall
Of
Every
Night
Glow
Yet
More
Far
The carrion of the trees
I feel
I hear
In our garden
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