After Basho’s Frog

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There is one sky
but many roads
to hear the sound
that changes all.

The tree,  the leaf,  the flower
from one seed. Flesh and bloom
will wither, The moon will wax
and wane,

Footprints will fade
with the next tide, Brief
days might linger for centuries
or longer.

Only after the frog
did I know
the sound of water.
Listen.

 

 

~~~

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