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Trimming insect-laden hedges
I discern a slowing growth
as sunlight rations rampant shoots;
a shift and shedding has begun.

The grass will grow more hesitant
and idle blades forget their foe.
Spades will lean to spiders’ work
and mine will more or less be done

though respite heralds damp decay
and masking mists, and
ankle deep in slicking leaves
again, my efforts are undone.

But, spun along a long ellipse
expectantly, the earth and I
will revel yet in lavish light
and suckle a forgiving sun.




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