
Poetry
Milkweed
Many of your sistersand brothers stay inside the podhuddled together, the brownand brittle October hull eitherprotection or prison.But you have broken out, pushedaway this dead
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Many of your sistersand brothers stay inside the podhuddled together, the brownand brittle October hull eitherprotection or prison.But you have broken out, pushedaway this dead

What if the Spirit of God just appeared to meright now, and it was in a flock of wild turkeys?I awoke and, lying in my