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Clouds Haiku
Smaller cloud trails large,
the gentle wind, helpfully
nudges to catch mom.
White sliding on white,
cottony clouds slipping past;
Not a strand mussed.
Airplane slipping through -
shy don't wings catch cotton wisps;
trail it in tehir wake?
Sitting shoreside, smooth
water reflects setting sun -
clouds, swirling gently.
June 1996
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