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  • Mason Peretson


My roar reaps the understory

As my strangled stalk emerges from the den,

Rumbling the trees surrounding

Scaring those who seek me

My pollen, scorching the ground around.

But my beauty lures,

Appealing to the eyes of man

Wanting to tame the beast that lies

So they do, putting my lair in their backyards

Making the myth equate a blade of grass.



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