ant5

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winter fly

we’ll call him

Lincoln

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he’s back

on the spice lids

winter fly

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wood dust fire

flashes and blows

away

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a planet or

two makes it

through the mist

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Nixon resigns

a clipping in

the book of recipes

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cool sun

the jack o’

lantern fades

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the witch

has been in

the tea cup again

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a voice

comes from

the culvert

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the hens fill

the light spilled

from the door

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muscle

car in

the ditch

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