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  • In a few minutes the sun will crest the mountains with


    a scatter of gun shots like firecrackers from our neighbor's fields
    and over ours a tatter of geese loud and in disarray

    will send songbirds to form clouds, crows to caw calamity, squirrels to shake treetops.

    And I will head to the garden to lift
    the shrouds draped last evening to forestall
    foolishly, perhaps,
    other inevitable endings.
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