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Wednesday, April 25, 2018

A Dark Tendermess










Breathing in the light,
New young bud opens its mouth
To let sun shine through.


















New flowers have come;
From where? I really don't know;
(They really don't care.)
















Shadows on the floor;
In the corner of my eye;
Move, until I look.





























Nearly dry stream bed
Still has flocks of day lilies;
Spring life continues.


















Soft chorus of birds
Sings with dissonant sharpness
Joined by the rooster.



























New insect chorus
Raises sharp tiny voices
From places unknown.



















Why do shadows meet?
They touch ephemerally--
A dark tenderness.




















Blending to the road,
Dead pine cones join the dead leaves:
Last winter's refuse.








































































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