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A Day in March
Through the window the still yard.
A cat runs across and disappears through the slender doorway.
What to do on a day like this?
Such emptiness!
Looking out on these dismal rooftops and the wet sky,
One wonders how to interpret the signs:
Wind soughing in the grass,
And water trembling in a bucket.
poem
by
John Thorkild Ellison
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