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We Sat There

***

Two vacant park benches
under an old gray pine
are slate and damp
with dingy mold,
moss & pine needles
coat cracked seats
& tables crisscrossed
by mucus slug-trails–
        
A gray squirrel grips a stray
acorn between razor teeth
to sit and nibble under chilly
ashen bowers; this somber
winter day of the newborn
year. We sat there.

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