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  • Writer's pictureH. M. L. Swann

Day 104: Poetry

300 Days of Writing

Day 104 Poetry:

The language came and went.

It flowed and burned and boiled and blew.

The tongue rolled. The teeth cut.

The cheeks flexed and parted.


There was nothing poetic about the words.

There was no magic in them.

It was the soul,

Who hunted fast,

And crafted something from none.

Сайхан Бичээрэй!


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