On WiremakingA Poem by eglantineThe sun was dry and the goats winter-coats were dry. I leaned my upper-body against the splintered fence, hand uncurled and offered wind-braised grass.
Wrap wire into barbs; twist around the bones. © 2012 eglantine |
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Added on February 22, 2012Last Updated on February 22, 2012 |

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