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Wednesday, May 31, 2017

Do They See The Trees?






























Today's my birthday
And Monday is my cysto.
Mortality calls.
















Buried in a bloom
Honeybee gathers himself--
Rhododendron home.














With mouths wide open
They can do nothing but wait
(And grow and fly off)


















Log is mottled green;
Lichen has found a new home
On the cut down tree.



















Growing wild and new
A carpet growing and blue
Just outside the fence.
















Ivy doesn't know
As it climbs over the fence
What its limits are.
















Constantly chatting
The two friends pass me by twice.
(Do they see the trees?)






















Delicately borne
A new fern is arising,
A thousand years old




















Armed guards stand
Their fierce swords pointed all ways.
Beware! Do not touch!























Thunder and lightning fall--
Ice descending with water--
A late Spring abyss.














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