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Harvest

if fall should come and you find your
apple trees have been replaced by brick,
the sounds of the rivers
turned to the hum of distant traffic

remember that a cup of tea
is just as cozy at the corner cafe
as it is in an orchard
and that warm wool socks can be stitched
around your heart the same in the city
as they were in your garden.

you may have a harvest yet.

 

 

photo: Rachel Wood

 

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Concrete

I have swallowed enough of this city’s concrete and I am now filled with it
I am convinced the crushing feeling I wake up with is simply
the overflow of it in my chest and that somewhere beneath it in my heart is a seed
and that somehow the springtime will push something blossoming through

because Continue reading Concrete

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“Pollution” by Z.L

This is where I live now
This is where I’ve lived the last 15 years
Carrying my oppressor by my side

Every night we share the same pillow
We walk hand in hand through the day

In the mornings I pray you won’t be there
But you never leave.

You can’t leave, while I stay.

(Photo by veeterzy on Unsplash)