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Month 4:2

“Green Anaconda”

Too late for her: Silences as antidotes, arriving only after
every Word she knew had proved itself an Anaconda
preying upon & crushing Elephants lost in thought.
Her Language a heinous evasion, an odious bond.

by Therese L. Broderick

About ThereseLBroderick

Independent community poet living in Albany, New York USA.

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