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Poetry #352
(published October 18, 2007)
April You
by Tom Hamilton
April you
                    throw your waste paper pillows
like the billows of smoke from the pipes of far beings.

Meeting the breeze is the breath of her lover.
His equator heat fights for our hot Summer peace.

Sports cars will spit up the fog of smog warnings,
and burn them away in tornados of steam.

As Spring gets her ring, like love skin at morning
mimics the clouds with twin breathless cream.

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by Leah Mueller

The Ink
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