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2008-04-11 - 11:03 p.m.

It's the straw stacked squarely
placed firmly against the back wall
of my grandfather's barn he lights first.

There is no equipment, no animals
just the straw, the fire, and the smoke
that we see from the house.

He leaves, crosses the field,
moves into the trees.
We stand around the ashes later
as he drives home.


P.S. I need a new layout. Until then, a picture of me as a baby being hit by a nascar car in front of an American flag. Enjoy!

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