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Replying to a comment on:
Of an Age Before (Free verse) by cleverdevice Starched white, bleached
With Sun's burning scorch.
Prone, sprawled, contorted
By sinews of an age before.
Stiff, brittle, still
In long, lush fronds
And mottled green.
Grains of sand creep towards,
The stricken form.
The desert's bare clench takes,
Inch, by inch, by inch
And covers the skeletal figure,
Reclaiming life,
Of an age before.
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