It does and what’s
more,
who knows where it’s
from...
Amongst the green grass rolls
of the coal rich hill
where in Shamrock
flowers
the bees never still
and dew glistens on
every furry back
and plants are like
palms
over every track...
A beetle...
under a crow’s shadow
scuttled to hide
along a yellow flex
into a round smooth
hole,
not dug by nature;
not spider, worm nor
mole.
A hole among many
in the hillside
and...
BANG!
It had a bomb in it.
Copyright © Jason
Horsler
10/03/97
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