Day Nineteen: Not following the prompt. I'm rebellious. DEAL WITH IT.
If a tree
falls in the forest,
what is crushed
beneath it?
Amid the plume
of black dirt and
bits of leaves,
is there not also life
that seeps, trembling,
from the crumpled bark?
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Playing on my iTunes at this very moment:
The Band, Up On Cripple Creek
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