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How We Are Judged by the Sun
from Summer Grass


 

 
Heavy jewels
on curved canes
the raspberries gleam

many we didn't pick
darkened there and dropped
lost in the long summer grass

and now a fast shadow
hawk of memory
strikes

some kind of warning
a weatherflash
storm

but the singed leaves hang
motionless
in a dreadful calm

 

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