• Wind churns Her understory ... and trash,
    • Tumbling on grounds of coveted freight
    • Which both unearthed and birthed the obscene.
    • Labored with hands torn, they groom their born
    • As gazing eyes retreat to the dance
    • And flight of fanciful figurines.
    • Piles of lamb's wool bundle upon blue,
    • While brow with spade under shade furrow –
    • Nature sullied by finger-machines.
    • Without end they unfold;
    • The red cherry — "Behold!"
    • Such work only forgiven by Mother.

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