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    Flags, separate, crossing your bit
    you’re a bit like that
    bombs damage the ground
    and relations
    moving rocks, rocket propelled, caterpillar tracks
    leaving eaten, leaves, autumnal
    the bit at the end when the trees are bare
    not yet winter
    on the boundary between
    looking at each side the flags are similar
    invisible line
    one side yours
    one side mine.

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