night haiku
The brightest moon of the year
Illuminating
this exodus: wind folding,

ready? the sky darkly blue
My mouth apple-like
And revealed like a curse

your starts light but momentous
Your heart calm, beating
I watch, twinkling and open

I do not dance this dance proud
I twist in your eyes
Flamenco-- daffodils-- gone.

March 21st, 2002

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