a wing beat–
the hummingbird
catches my eye

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hammock
lightens Sunday’s heat
I sway in

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cutting herbs
I find I am back
to Mother’s meals

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in the earth
who can tell
the future of a seed

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frost
freezes the moons
the puddles hold

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sunset
the last prayers
the Minaret calls

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wind all day–
the web repairs
the spider is caught in

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the ankles
your sari
brushes on stairs

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un-gloved—
for all to see
the pledge of her diamond

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perfumed
all at once—
the office lift

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