ant5

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ragged clouds

the hills don’t quite

make it to the sky

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the dog nudges

his blanket to

the center of the room

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before the cat

drinks my water

I add a little more

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it takes two mice

to tilt

the tin can

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your neck

won’t let you

see the moon

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he calls them

fried egg

daffodils

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she leaves

the aroma of sleep

at the table

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the mourning dove

waits in

the driveway

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strands of white clouds

in knots around

the mountain

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