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Haiku
a thrush sings
the message loud and clear
without words
in a rippled sky
the splash of primary colors
water at evening
bright autumn day
pen in hand I wonder
what to leave out
no words come
I set out to find something
and missed what was
aftermath
what dreams await
beyond despair
shadows fall
another strip of sun
slips away
late November
old leaves touching
new snow
a heron fishing
does he sense something where I
perceive nothing
joggers on the path
do more than their shadows
chase them
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