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Driftwood
Digressions
by Barbara
Phillips
the lake sighs in sapphire
brilliance
courted by birches attentively
bowing in sartorial costumes
reserved for autumn socials
in my thick wool sweater
I carefully step around granite
rocks, jewels abandoned on heavy
sands imprinting steps and stumbles
at my feet an apparition
rises woodenly into the tuneless wind
a misty rune,marble-smooth dove-soft
it waits to be heard
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