Beware the troll as he may lie in wait for those who happen by, this bridge is home, the woods are near, where traces of them disappear, and none can hear your distant cry. His stores are down, but he will try to swiftly augment his supply of children's foot and puppy's ear- beware the troll. The afternoon may go awry for those who watch the cloudy sky instead of heeding, staying clear of trestle willows weeping here, on fables now you may rely- beware the troll.
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AuthorJack has published over 350 poems in his career, many with his own photography. He specializes in a view of the commonplace and Americana. Archives
January 2021
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