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16 fLy HaiKU You keep to yourself. Not even a grape disturbed; I like that you’re here. We work until dark. I go somewhere in my head, you go somewhere else. By morning you’re back. The coffee stays on too long. Who flips off the switch? Everything’s a mess: papers piled two feet high; this suits you just fine. Wasn’t there a time when you’d have preferred foxglove? You know I kill plants. Even the rosebush, once crazy with pink blossoms, is losing its heads. If you could just talk, or I could see what you see; a fly on the wall. You’re here a month now. This must be your way to say: the windows are closed. ...

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