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Green Music
They steam,
They glare,
They fume and frown,
My ideas snarl and knot.
They slouch,
Resentful to be asked.
They stare and duel,
And pout.
Then suddenly -
A random thing
Flies through the traffic jam,
A buzz of green cicada wings -
The tune splats guts
Across my screen.
Copyright ©
Jeanette Swan
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