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there is much beauty to discuss
the Carolina Wren singing the playbill

the soil-slick Redback Salamander
cresting the frost line toward a higher sun

the Dutchman’s Breeches which 
those bumbling zeppelin bees seem to love

and somehow below the guzzling roots
we are mining the mountains

of antipathy, the quarrelsome coal
pick axe dreadful chop and haul

mired convictions dehydrated in daylight
profaning this green cathedral