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Caro Henry's avatar

First the locusts came

Now the dancing specters twirl

Crops wither crows feast

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A.P. Murphy's avatar

Over the fields of grain

blow winds. Madness is not in

ghosts but in the winds

___

The howling is its own

pulse of tension and release -

the wind sounds. I howl

___

One says she sees ghosts

out by the wheatsheaves - it's false,

they're spiralling winds

___

Winds raise husks and straw,

blow them in my eyes - my tears

spirits and monsters

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