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Wood Chopping
by Lorraine Healy
Before long,
the creek inside the wood
bursts, starts running—
and with each axe-down
the horses
trapped inside the wood
stampede wide
through the valley
of wood—all are sorrels—
and the oranges
tight inside the grain
come tumbling,
they fill the barn with swallows;
the rent wood and its camellias
which float on the skin
of the creek of wood
as it clefts
as it pounds—
before long,
the creek that was trapped
the horses that hid
in the yes tight
the wood’s flaming oranges
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