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Whispers
The smoke lies heavy in the air
as though all my neighbors
are stoking their fireplaces
yet it’s the middle of Summer.
It burns my eyes, irritates my throat as I walk
yet for me it is merely an inconvenience.
The trees along the canal are whispering,
‘My brothers are dying.’
Kenny A. Chaffin – 6/14/13
Last edited by kennyc; 06-14-2013 at 11:54 AM.
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