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A thorny hand grasps
his last shred of dignity.
Hope gone forever
When the setting sun
reaches for the horizon
light fades from our hearts.
Monday time stands still.
Eternity holds its breath
waiting, still waiting. . .
African Violets
bloom in the noontime sunshine.
Why did God bring rain?
those are a few haiku i wrote
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Now the swinging bridge<br />Is quieted with creepers. . . <br />Like our tendrilled life. -Basho
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