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