ant5

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crescent moon

the evening ghosts

will be late

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the blue beast

at the edge of the hills

quiets down

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something picked

up the peanut

and then left it

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a wall of books

scattered

ashes

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it comes back

and nudges the gravel

stray dog

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you follow

your own reflection

in the shallows

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line at the pharmacy

people whisper

their birth date

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right now

big spirits

walk through us

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darkness

flows back into

the hole in the hedge

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