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We are noses touching before foreheads.

We are birds trying to leave the nest.

We are a tent revival preacher casting out demons.

We are the taste of twist cap Boone’s Farm

while overlooking the lake

and trying to see the future.

 

This is and excerpt from my poem “Twist cap Boone’s Farm.” Please visit my Amazon page: 

 

https://www.amazon.com/Steven-Harz/e/B00AY4SAZ4

 

 

 

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