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Sharing a pasture

Cows crop grass and eye the shadow where willows hold back

pond from meadow.

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Fishing's slow.

As morning passes,

I finger-crop

five kinds of grasses.

Yellow bees

circle, zooming,

then zero in

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where clover's blooming.

When the bees

no longer hover,

I pick and knot

a chain of clover.

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