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Poetry #228
(published May 26, 2005)
Why M
by Mariel Boyarsky
I saw the axe
resting against the side of the house.

Its blade was kissing the earth,
the sweet, cold metal and
red warmth of dirt:
one inside the other.

is why my father has an axe—
to bury the sharp danger of it
in the womb of something
and soft.

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