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Moon, Rain
Homeward, and how sudden
The round white moon
Above the winter poplars
(Bunches of broomstraws)
And the gray
Of the sky in that quarter
A silence for the moon statement
And she is indoors at this hour
And the moon not visible anyway
From down in the canyon
This was yesterday --
Today where she is, at the window
Rainy light on the faucet chrome
And on the sheath of wet
On the tree, the bare
Apricot the rain sparely decorates
A knop of silver
Here and there, before
The window where she is