Pine Flakes of Us

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They are the seeds of our green fringe-

The pine trees, slivers of essence

They are winged micros

Pared elliptical spirals into here:

The square concrete and steel of human nests.

 

They mark another cycle:

Death, renewal, birth and awakening

As their girth grows, ours weakens.

 

The August sun splits the early evening

As a grey squirrel dashes over the fence

Like an office worker in Adidas trainers

He is all frenetic energy and need.

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