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4 Tanka
by Diane Dehler


white magnolia
from a flower market
bathing in a
transparent bowl of moonlight
perfume of forgotten desire

             I asked
             for love and not this
             pouring from an ink well
             a solitary lament

my poems
are children – I call to them
at twilight
time to sleep my darlings
a bower of night stars

             as I can pick it
             sorrow grows in my garden
             where are the yellow daisies


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