People walk past the Green Man not knowing he's
looking at them with one eye cocked,
more mirth than myth.

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A man is mumbling a mantra
he thinks he understands. Seeing me,
he grins simperly.

A woman walks past whose scent changes
the creek's direction, a whole
cycle of nature is diverted.

Trees look down, breathe deeply, and sigh:
Humans are mad, they say.
We know we know we are.


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