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Thursday, 26 June 2014

Haram


I did not want to come here

Wherever here is



My town was like a cocoon

We the caterpillars



Swinging in every breeze

At the tree tops



I thought of flying one day

Just pushing off



Then they shook all of us down

Burned the branches



I could be squashed on the ground

Under booted feet



So I must be still as stone

And may never fly

©E R Olsen
E R Olsen writes poetry and practices law in Nevada, where he and his wife raised their four children. His poems have appeared in several U.S. journals and magazines, most recently in the Naugatuck River Review.

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