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Jasmine
November 12, 2015
On my toes,
lightly
I walked in damp, warm mud.
In my hand,
delicate
Lay a sweetly scented bud.
The sky was dark
The air was thick
The night was live with sounds.
The stars were bleak
The wind was still
The vines stretched over grounds.
A perfume fit for the gods
Of sleep full earth
And old night sky.
A moment without all end
Of colored hum
And sad moon cry.
© Hilary B., Barrington, RI
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