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Anne Heide

Come on to clay-wing

Come nod off in the oil
spread around the rug
for smell

Come pry up the oak
where the roots are growing
all too close to the mother

Come aim your damp hands

Come saw through your yard
like a good bunch

Come spread these wings out
on my block

Come be a cardinal

Come soak yourself
in sleepy

Come weed the garden

Come Sunday

Anne Heide

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