Easier

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Easier than eye-shadow

or pollen twitched into April

by careless bee’s nudge

a child’s belief

away at the heels of a pony

 

revenue slips into pocket

like husbands into houses of ill fame

autumn winds turn

leaves into the book of years

 

stockings near brass in a fireplace

caught on fire burn through a lifetime

 

Mother’s cross

I believe in Santa Claus

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