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The Impossible Machine
Upon Returning to a Garden
Let's say that light was bone
And the skylark called
And the silver shone
And the madrigal
Of spring
Displayed like flowers
Hours forgotten;

Dark thestral forms that hold
The breath on the brink
Of another world

The sort of place where
gardens grow

And dials sunglazed
Wink at passing dragonflies

Copper beeches exploding
With that forgotten air
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by Eucaleh Terrapin