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rain-filled river the things you kept from me
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drifting fog an acquaintance i'd rather not meet
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receding thunder cherry petals line the storm drain
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heavy snowfall a hawk on a fence post almost white
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high sun - his daughter on his shoulders
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ruined stadium - all that remains are bird songs
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long day - a warm breeze carries the smell of the brewery
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a wide open bay as far as the eye can see the herring gull's call
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waiting for you~ the changeful rhythm of the rain
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airport gate ~ the undetected poison of your words
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spring changes... I clean rust off the latch of an old desire
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spring in the air - the stone path to the mailbox well polished
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autumn light - in the silent glades me and the gun...
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late fall - the scent of rain in your hair
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watching the lunar eclipse a dead rose
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autumn leaves-- the harvest moon fades
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sudden hail-- the argument breaks off mid-sentence
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sudden hail-- she tells me to be careful what I wish for
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distant thunder-- I dream I've forgotten where my parents live
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first frost-- the squirrel plants acorns where we buried the cat
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fall equinox-- a black squirrel running on the power line
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mudslide the last rain of 2005 segues into '06
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mirror maze... I stand alone in the crowd of me
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dementia every meeting is now our first
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just extinguished- smoke slowly curls out pumpkin eyes
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long evening a different silence in each room
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Indian summer my bookmark a yellow leaf
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a shy toddler the rest home seniors come to life
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my night prayers the long rumble of a freight train
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snow fury— the coffeecup still warm in my hand
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winter leaf -- how she cups the pills in her hand
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climbing the walls of the disused youth club: flowering hops
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mussel-blue skies . . . the cherry blossom bright by the brick wall
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around the headstone of one who died at twenty: wind-puffed primroses
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between train tracks recumbent beer bottles beset by frost
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the line of poplars blackens a mackerel sky... February blues
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following me downriver to work: the pastel moon
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sharp night a thin plume of smoke from the fire station
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crow after crow the morning darkens with biblical rain
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honking through the darkness long before their shapes: the twilight geese
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winter solstice the street sweeper picks up a glass half full
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at either end of the twelve-carriage platform: spring mist
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street of cafes: cherry blossom gusts across the tables
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hail on the train- a young woman's leg straddles her boyfriend's
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almost spring outside the embassy plaque polishing
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for seconds between flood rains: the sunny colours of market mangoes
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like scattering tacks: the forecast record rainfall on the bus's roof
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yellow moon a glimpse of a porpoise easing upstream
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the river streaks pell-mell on either side of Eel Pie Island two pied wagtails
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the forecast rain... a queue-jumper gets berated by everyone
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late again- the lights change in the evening puddle
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shortest day three geezers paint the pub's front green
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steam train... just over the wall a winter-flowering cherry
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Manitoba crossing all their possessions in a plastic bag
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light breeze the desire of my skin for touch
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Rainy day Through the stained-glass window Yellow jasmine
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arthritis - another glass of wine in the left hand
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Marmalade on the birthday card - signed Baby
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shortest day-- her countdown to christmas quickens
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dusk breeze another birthday spent viewing others
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bamboo flute mournful notes flying to an absent moon
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still smiling water beads and drips off Buddha's nose
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forest silence. . . the cool green glow of lichen wet with sunlit steam
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old village. . . mosquitos enough for everyone
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sweeping leaves. . . her lovesong interupted by a sigh
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Infinite white - a solitary tree supporting the sky
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rush hour - one leaf's journey to the ground
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autumn trail the smell of something wild lingers
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in my basket a flurry of seed fluff windy morning
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afternoon sun my shadow reaches a bottle of red
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winter dusk five geese and i heading home
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a tiny bird cold in my hands night wind
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moving day my shadow by the pond one last time
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gray morning the sound of a red canoe
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fall afternoon . . pockets full of seeds and dreams
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river rat the shadow within an owl’s voice
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tropical wind orange butterfly and i
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my breath on the phone’s screen hurricane watch
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autumn’s end a bottle of wine shared with a bee
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a moth in candle wax early winter
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after the storm mountains return a bit softer
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finding her place between black and white the young eagle
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in the fog a mountain echoes blackbird at dawn
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afternoon heat the faraway sea in a gull’s cry
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briefly the day pauses first butterfly
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another button lost along the way lifting fog
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the owl i hear but never see november dusk
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for a moment i am the heron first light
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cinnamon tea drinking the scent of dawn
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rush hour our echoes meet in the stairwell
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tip of the storm thunder fills the sky with crows
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summer rain i leave the dishes for later
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memorial day shadows in formation among headstones
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dormer window the wasp i couldn't save gathers dust
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jasmine tasting the sound of my tea
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his dust soft on my fingers the dead moth
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snuffing the flame the quiet room quieter
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the quiet of making soup winter rain
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dark winter day learning from doves when dusk comes
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holiday traffic watching mountains grow in the distance
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