Shadows

all those trees that fell to notebooks
their shadows bend over this poem
claim the spaces
between the words
 
through your window
the street corner shops
overflow with flowers
blood red petals
on the pavement
 
like postcards
from a country
you don’t remember visiting
the hydro wires send messages
to nowhere
 
this cloud whisper morning
is neither punishment    nor reward
for such a cold rain

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