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poem by in Free Verse, Imagery added

migration

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As winter bites down hard,
we're seeking summer country
where citrus-stained hands
piece orange with a pocketknife
and the daylight is syrup-sweet
with tobacco smoke.

The End
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M.H.O'Brien You're currently reading the poem migration, which was posted on Jan 9, 2012 by M.H.O'Brien.

This is a solo poem.

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This poem is filed under:
Free Verse, Imagery

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