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In
The
War
Of
Weeds

Covered
With
Green
Blood

In
The
Heat
Of
Battle

A
Thousand
Standing

More
Mown
From
Their
Roots

The
Joy
Of
Death

Cold
And
Rough
As
The
Blades

The
Smell
Of
Peace.

©Daniel P. Barbare 2013

*****

Todays featured poem is by Daniel P. Barbare. A dramatic piece, utilising a staccato meter and original imagery, this is both humorous and philosophical in it’s nature. Daniel takes a familiar, almost mundane task which many take for granted, cutting the grass, and manages to step back and look at it in a completely different, original manner, twisting and turning it into a metaphysical comment upon the meaning of mans struggle with nature. Simple in it’s construction, but vastly complex and surprising in it’s execution.

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