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Steady trunk standing so effortlessly in tree pose.
Above, green shadows,
the sound like water, but not,
like whispering, but not,
this sound that is only itself—
leaves saying something to the sky
or to each other
or to us.

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The Novel Bunch

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I came to where you were living, up a stair. There was no one there.--John Ashberry, "The New Higher"

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