'The Thinning'
By christy
Another hot southern day. Logging trucks creep from a thick tangle of woods lugging unarmed giants to papermill graves. No one ever misses them except maybe the martins who've moved to gutted gourd houses across the way, and some ghostly Confederate soldier whistling a mournful "Dixie" in the breeze. Written December 4th, 2001 © on Dec 04 2001 06:05 AM PST 0 • 10
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"Another hot southern day...."