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The bins were out at a hoolie last night
Some didn't make it home
They lie on their sides
With their mouths open wide
Asleep, agog, alone
A weakened Ash
Torn apart by the wild rage
of last nights wind
Limbs lie scattered
On the storm-littered road
It's still today
And calm,
Powder blue and silver
Fieldfares chuckle
As they light
on the blood red Rowan
And a Raven
Turns somersaults
High on the edge

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