July 21st 2016

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after
····the mowing—an ox-eye daisy and the lone
········sun
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That time of year the tractors have come out to mow the median and the highway’s shoulders. The beautiful colors are burned to a papery foil without their roots in the moist earth. The evenings are suffused with the drying smell of the cut grasses.
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258 July 21st 2016 | bottlecap
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