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Collected Poetry
(rd king dot net)poetry and digital art
In California
Spring
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Spring fetches another life to the grassy meadow. The sun sends its warmth to free the snow from its sterile kingdom so the waters flow. The waters thaw and flow. And the night lays down its frost—its hard, hoary discipline. It can seem unkind. It can seem unkind to know: a red-winged blackbird has landed in the blue oak. At the edge of the green meadow a red-winged blackbird finds a branch offered by the blue oak.
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