The chosen and the random,
Dry, quiet, bright, and airy
Poetry of sunny rooms
Empty of books or readers,
Empty of student teachers,
Empty of anyone soon.
The velvet early morning
Light in the body’s absence
Glows through the fruit and nut trees
Planted by a man deceased,
Well-tended by his widow,
Proud of her desert garden,
Lavender from the same sun
Crushing atoms, here serene.
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