Jeff Connelly Poet I do not know?

Blessed Be the Harvest

i spread across
the parking lot
lots of mustard

seeds just to see
if while i sleep
they will still

grow and
so sowing
everyday i

notice and
take notice
to subtleties

through cracks
of tarmac that
have from each

year formed
glaciers in
micro form

opening in yawns
allowing sprouts
to choke on and 

out to reach 
the sun in an
Edenic wine

and spirits
liquor store's
paved lawn

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