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Sledge Hammer

I see my hands swing in front of me, striking, penetrating, shattering the object of my blow. The sheen on the forged metal head glitters the suns bead as it slams the course fortress layered below. Strike after strike, the sledge forces its way into the spaces that splits and spits out dust, choking on itself, taking full advantage of the weakening wall of stone. Its gap digs deeper and opens anew.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2015




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Date: 4/14/2015 11:21:00 AM
Mike, I've had too many of those moments in my work life. There is, however, poetry in every movement, every blow of the "beater".
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Date: 2/24/2015 3:36:00 PM
Poetry , in the most common of things ...love this . Welcome to the Soup Mike ! Bev :)
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Date: 2/20/2015 10:05:00 PM
Mike, Stopping by with a nice, sweet Welcome to Poetry Soup. I will get much delight in reading and in time become familiar with your verse. As for now, I will greet you with the same smile others passed when I first joined the soup. Wishing you and your poetry the best. I hope you get to meet all the nice poets around here STARTING with me- SKAT :-) Please drop a hello and tell me a little about yourself if you wish. I would like to be your newest poetry soup "FRIEND" Hugs* SKAT
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