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Who hears the snow
falling in frigid, wind sculptures
on winter nights?
Listen to the sky,
see beyond
nature’s temperamental rehearsal,
finding the dialogue
erected in temples
felt and inhaled,
yet translucent
to the senses.
One gaze is enough,
one touch too many,
when
what stirs
is a spoon
held
by hands
extending
from Heaven’s kitchen.
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