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Pastoral (With One’s Head Out the Car Window)

Although drizzle nettles the cheeks red

& one’s ears fill with wind’s grey-green noise—

there’s clover & honeysuckle, the cheeks held

intimately by almost nothing. Once, everything

we couldn’t understand was made through similes

of nature. Now the trees look like telephone

poles. A wingspan, a hanging up receiver.    

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   Contributor’s notes

   Pastoral (Future Interstate)
   Pastoral (Radio)
   Pastoral (With One’s Head Out the Car Window)

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