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A Coal Miner’s Butterfly

I tied the hands
of a clock
like shoe laces

took pictures
over
and over

until the image
was exposed
in the shape

of a heart.

I found fingers –

in the staggering
corn stalks.

Two swans gliding through an old factory

the S of white necks

a soundless compression fracture

a time capsule hidden
in rusted pipe.

I curled myself against a wall
and waited –

(co-coon)

I curled myself –

for answers.

Published inBlogging & PoemsMy Poems

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