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BARBED WIRE New strung, it sparks a live wire when sun hits right, and can be thumbed like guitar string, its tune pure country twang, but given enough time rain rusts metal, fence posts wobble like loose teeth, barbed wire burrows in laurel and goldenrod before found by fisherman or hunter, as I once did, miles deep in the Smokies when something latched to my calf--coil of old ...