Seven sunflower stalks / each with its own strangling vine // deft hands
and sharp knife / leave them stretching toward sky / unbound once more.
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Or:
Seven sunflower stalks
each with its own strangling vine
deft hands
and sharp knife
leave them stretching toward sky
unbound once more.
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My hands were digging in the rich volcanic soil of the Puyallup River Valley—pulling weeds, removing roots, sifting out rocks. Oh the joy of the garden.
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