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CLXIV

October 22, 2013

The dry stench of dust
and carbon monoxide.
Gravel and stones and dirt, the bones
of a building: pipes, rebar,
and poured concrete.
But in the morning, before the bastard sun rises,
you know the mist is moisture, not pollution,
and only the distant creaking of a mechanical arm,
and the muffled thump of dirt
says “This is a construction site,
in the early autumn fog.”

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