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main street a red pick-up cruises the spring rain
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traffic jam a flight of geese across the highway
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first light an unknown bird sings me awake
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darkened church she teaches her grandchild to light a candle
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Ash Wednesday this is the year he'll quit
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thin crescent . . . I wonder what she meant by that
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packing up the creche one of the wise men is missing
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cold moon a carriage horse trots up Sixth
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cold moon the glitter of city lights in the river
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thin crescent she closes the curtains
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whistling kettle snowflakes in the wind
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cold rain lavender neon surrounds a sex shop window
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twentyfourseven an empty laundromat at dawn
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overtime . . . through an office window the harvest moon
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a night of fireflies and cricket song . . . the end of summer
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rain on the lake turning down the volume
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where do I put the accent -- Hiroshima
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brookside whales are roaring in a poem I read
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sudden shower cursing the umbrella he left at home
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mother's day something sexy for his wife
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war news I wash the ink from my fingers
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rainy night a light in the bookstore window
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wiping his eyes before the lights come up- sad movie
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winter sunset shadows of branches climb the fire escape
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January walk Santa Claus and a flag in a neighbor's window
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my friend's ashes heavier than I expected winter wind
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home for a visit the sound of rain on the river
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low mass the old priest believes more than he remembers
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new year's party the divorced couple leaves together
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midwinter the coffee drinker sips tea
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morning rush reading Walden on the subway
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election day revising the poem one more time
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fog moving in another phone call unreturned
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summer rain my umbrella stays closed
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early summer old women in the shade of the bus shelter
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a boy and his dad playing catch out back . . . long shadows
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main street- ribbons that used to be yellow
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terminal . . . his favorite ice cream melts in the cup
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spring morning those young men have noticed what she's not wearing
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old western -- black hats white hats in shades of gray
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spring rain a man standing outside the bus shelter
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snowflakes a robin's flight from tree to tree
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serving coffee she asks if I take cream the curve of her wrist
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waiting for you at the sidewalk cafe half moon
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chemotherapy- she always liked the way I kissed her hair
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undulation of a faded flag- autumn afternoon
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streetlight my shadow growing fading
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do I know you -- my young face looks to me from an old photo
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torn shades of dilapidated house crocus blooming blue
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from train depot multicolored umbrellas streaming along misty streets
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between pages a frayed recipe in my mother's hand
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from basement window the underside of sunflowers striped deep-colored veins
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before we crest the sand dune’s tip the question …
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it’s only a tree it’s only my horizon— rip of a chain saw
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helicopter seeds crash land— graduation day
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my mother in the mirror dividing my hair for braiding
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she drank to remember why she wears lipstick
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mid-autumn our kitchen windows fog up as the sauce simmers
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pausing between rain showers— summer solstice
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left to simmer the kettle shrieks until answered
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slice by slice the pie disappears— blueberry stains
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lunar eclipse the weight of another’s shadow
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the burnt-out apple tree blooms rain drops
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that shade of green-- the first fireflies clenched in small hands
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tube station ... the homeless man still in yesterday's news
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city traffic ants in and out of a sparrow
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shaking the stone from her shoe - a white opal swings from between her brown breasts
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one hundred views of the sunrise - appartment block
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winter twilight - she studies the face in her mirror
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winter rain... she places his flowers in the second-best vase
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fading light - a red leaf bouquet at the smallest grave
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spring rain - as the doctor speaks i think of lilacs
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false dawn sometimes i still think of home
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first frost - a twirl of yellow leaves as the bus passes
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plasma tv - in high resolution the homeless man's face
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sparrow song-- two ladies on the verandah just before the rain
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summer wind the blue jay's reflection in the birdbath
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a drunk asleep on the beach--his mouth open to the sky
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the ant wanders across the floor . . . meditation room
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family reunion I stir tea with a fork
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first snow-- sour cream drops in the borsch
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summer moon visits the attic and touches father's journal
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subway to work the scent of meditation on my sweater
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birth certificate— water damage on my name
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in the space of an om . . . countless raindrops
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echoing in the cup . . . winter prayers
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subway air . . . my wife and I talk about adoption
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pranayama— the candle goes out as it lights another
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midnight . . . scent of the incense stick burning itself
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subway transfer the homeless lady sells mirrors
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between two decrepit buildings— poplar in late evening light
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death anniversary— a curl of incense smoke stuck on the ceiling
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I watch someone watch someone else the promise of rain
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bare hill— broken glass sparkling where the sun moves
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summer storm . . . I push the beetle back on its feet
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predawn a grey dove outside my window
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solstice a shaft of sunlight through rock
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rainburst-- thoughts of you fading
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straw hat - flowers fading under the sun
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Spring rain- I sit looking out the window
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