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deep sorrow for his passaway
sorry we lost he
after your passaway
I give you river,
cloud reflected in river
You give back river
you give back cloud
sorry we lost he
I give you whirling dervish of house,
half-mile of heron
You give them back,
you are passaway
I give you memory
of our weekdays and weekends
and all the days in between
You give them back
with or without sorrow
I can’t tell
sorry we lost he
I give you hodgepodge of spiders,
Love’s dagger-proof coat,
myself when young
I give you river and cloud,
you return them, unused,
don’t need them
you are passaway
From The Rialto No 65 (Summer 2008)