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Clear Cutting

Early morning CRACK as the final branch falls
Slips down and hooks onto stubs of branches
Trying to hold on but
The dry branch swishes
And with a whoosh it’s on its way
To the crackle covered ground
Green and brown leaves swirl and blend like paint
Coating the damp and dewy grass
While the buzz of the chainsaw hangs in the air
Vibrating to a soft hum which lasts through the afternoon

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