ant5

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where we’re used to

frogs one cricket

in the red dusk

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sticking out

from your purse

half a headline

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jutting from

the pear foliage

white tail plumage

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in the old lunch pail

lip balm

hard as a rock

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we don’t know

why the cow

stands up for us

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the kettle

we let it whistle

in the silence

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bathing

the chickens displace

the young carrots

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the bee

a few dandelion seeds

stuck to it

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