One Man’s Excavation

by Christian Thomas Golden

UntitledBreathing deeply,
stuffing down, I pack it down,
shut it down and bury it.

Forget the pain.
Keep on marching.
Don’t let it get the best of me.

Too late.

Toxins elevating,
seeping to the surface,
poisoning the soil.

No flowers bloom on this plot of land.

Time for an excavation.

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