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the passing of spring  (  a  p o e m  )

…

sad bluebells ring in dimming clangs

wild garlic sighs by river banks

make little scent as blossom fades

mock-wintery

the faux-snow way


yet clement air & stretchy days

rise as that grass - make way for hay

i stop mid-plod - is this a dream?

here death's alive, death thrives

death's green

( ! )

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