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REQUIEM FOR WINTER
It's just an early goodbye,




because sometimes the end comes ahead of schedule
perhaps in the dark of night
the last traces sinking like a sigh
into the sympathetic earth
the warm birth
--gushing gutterspouts of spring--
subsuming the death throes
in its brightening melody






What I mean to say is: Hallelujah!
(And yes, yes, of course I've got my fingers crossed.)
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