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Friday, January 8, 2016

Year's End

Two dead leaves, brown, serrated,
almost elliptical, insipid kisses
from autumn's ghost, lie in state
upon a small ice-glazed puddle
in the untrafficked asphalt
of Wyman Street, Arlington.

Something Else

I cherish the sparrow in a world of traffic. I applaud cloisters and quiet wisdom. I prize the frail light of six in the morning. I...