discarded

The land where children throw dolls, books,
musical instruments at the dark windows,
not afraid of what’s going to be revealed.
Where hikers bitten by coyotes never have webbed feet.
Where people attend AA meetings wearing wet pants and t-shirts.
Where you can watch for days
watch how pine needles disappear in the sky
or burn it down or
make yourself useless for tiny nasty angels.
Where wind farms go haywire in the tremulous air
and ghosts steal chairs from restaurant patios.

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