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Poem: What Remains 

Refined to the point of ambiguity
A flower poised
In a glass

Of water you had brought
Light like
A tiny siphon

Leaks out of perception
Noticing then the complexion
Of the flower dew

Wet with what you left
Leaning out
Against the window

Through which oaks loom
Over the river
Grey-green with somber hues

Pale pigments
And an egret there perched upon
A fallen tree

Speaking of...

  • A poem by Seth Howard.

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