ant5

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Friday night

a series of inexplicable

noises

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before she leaves

she explains

her shoes

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the pink dusk

makes my skin

itch

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the plum

once in the ground

buds within hours

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crushed by ice

the crown of the willow tree

slow to bud

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a fresh circle

dug around

the limping apple tree

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in a leaking pot

on the flagstones

the new plum tree

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working against you

it becomes your friend

slender moon

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