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the path home grows softer with each returning step

summer the patient forest teaches clouds to stay

where the old ones have paused moss colonizes

a pocket full of sesame seeds is a prayer in disguise

the zen garden secretly grows a plant for unseen guests

arrive empty and leave summer hills with a headful of quiet

kept until they are no longer needed: pond reflections

best before light: your limbs are only as good as your silence

old root of summer teaches stones to be patient

the first dew belongs to the quietest field