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Splintered | A Poem by Ken Allan Dronsfield

bristle cone
legend grown.
Rock or slag
of boundless
stone crags.
Lifeless eyes
exhale dust
winded grass.
Rattlers move
rise or tried
high plains.
Desert chill
breathing still
splintered dry.

Ken Allan Dronsfield is a Published Poet and Author originally
from New Hampshire, now residing in Oklahoma. He enjoys hiking,
playing guitar and spending time with his cats Merlin and Willa. His published work can be found in Journals, Magazines and Blogs
throughout the Web.

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