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Three Tanka
by Carole Macrury

at life's end
you left us spare keys
with nothing to open
unmatched buttons
with nothing to close

all that's left
of the old homestead...
a foundation
filled with flax, larkspur
and prairie grasses

 

a light rain
upon leaf mulch–
an old grief
mingles with the scent
of late autumn

 


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