
My wife, for turf, chose silverweed
To spread across her garden.
Thieves thought it silver, literally,
And now her stolon’s stolen.
All Poetry © Dennis N. O'Brien, 2010 - 2019
Anthropology, linguistics, archaeology, and writing systems
Carmina et Verba pro Discipulis Meis
Reading, writing and a-rhythmic tics
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