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Marc Janssen

Always Returning VI

 

The

Aspect

Of

Rain

Sleeps

Away

From

Painted

Hills

And

Calls

Back

To

Me

Clouds

like

mild

parents

Whisper

down

laughing

Laughing

Smiling

and

prancing

Night

is

willing

now

Shading

exuberance

and

Calming

the

rust

sky

Yamhill August II

A heron stands wings open
   
        Throat shaking

Abandoned tire near a sleeping pump
           Rust and wood

 

Blackberry chaos choke the vine maples
           Hides the bank

 

A sky, light blue and cloudless is open
           Limited

 

Water, green and unmoving
           Littered with leaves
           Is the recollection of seagulls 
           Crying in a rain sparkled parking lot.

 

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