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In evening sun –
Incense burning with birdsong ~
Reading old poems.

In evening sun –
Incense burning, with birdsong ~
A Woman’s Message.

In evening sun –
Incense, burning with birdsong ~
Old poems, reread.

  

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In moments, too rare –
Sound, sight, all senses convene ~
Truth is captured, there.

For Seamus Heaney, RIP.

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