Grassyplace
Grassyplace
A little round piece of grassyplace
My body dropped there like clump of refuse down a chute
Stuck there
Slapped there
Flat there
Waiting for it
Ear to the ground
Every little screaming part of me pulls to get away
To move
Even just to whimper
But I cannot
I strain and cannot
I feel myself in two places
I see and pity the flat stuck one
I am lifted
I leave her behind I feel no pain
Save the aching pity
I fly away
The hunter is poised.






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