along the harbor where green sea goes gray on an autumn day as it’s turned half winter now in the sun and the pairs form of cold light and mannequins that mouth out with their frozen lips of something yet to come
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In Central Park the cherries start to bloom This sun-drenched day when birds have left their notes For us, intruders in their sanctuary moats, Unseen but heard where shaded branches loom. I walk a path that’s filled with cut-wood chips, Fine grass and leaves enveloping …
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