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The Muse Is Upon Me

2003-05-19 John Winkelman

Above the pond, a duck;
below, a carp.
Between them, the sky.

A dozen empty traps,
teeth full of dust;
my guests have taken their leave.

The elephant tree
is all hair and bones,
but still he blocks out
half the sky.

Posted in Poetry

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re: Visions
On Not Letting Art Die

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