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Humus

Humus Let the spacebetween tree and “tree”be humus. Let the space between usfill with rootsthat are (not) mine. Let form come from this exactplace, be knit to this tree’s branchingas close as bark. Because nothing is another thingor a puppy of our thoughts but only thishappening here between us: let me grow a word for…

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November by Cazenovia Creek

November by Cazenovia Creek Clear sky, flying clouds. Elsewherea terrible storm — tornadosin the southeast, hail in the Dakotas;in Buffalo, high winds. But herealong the creek,in thin late-afternoon sun,in Arleen’s woods, only the sound of the river,wind held in the cuppedhands of trees.Molasses sunlight, a tangof darkness. The afternoondistilling. Over the creek,one last dragonfly. Leaf…

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Spring by Cazenovia Creek

Spring by Cazenovia Creek iThe roses have come throughthough some are dead to the ankles.Now, in this cheerful airthey must be feeling painwhere the dead places are stretchedby little flames of juice – when it catches they burnburgundy and green and green. iiGreek Persephonein her dry meadowscould linger, could fritterpicking orchids and anemones but hereearth…