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novo
the open day
the sketched direction
______to be lost
______to be found
___________________anew
(first published in a handful of stones)
*
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(continues)
The shyest sparrow's supplications in the early evening trees
are a careful arpeggio - each note liberates a flotilla of leaves
fleeting, indeed, left scattered as archipelago in a dew-grass sea.
The song's begun: feathered entreaties lift from every hedgerow,
every field, join in one great arc of beak and wing and downy plume —
brief benediction for the worker trudging home, a heart-lifted pause
at day's end. Summer's pages fall.
(Tuesday Poem - poem in progress)
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