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I lost track of this and am just now coming back to see that it has made the leap to prose poetry. I love it for its plainspokenness. I now hear it as a soft thought-narration. The land is suffering. "Grey-leaf light and old water" is astoundingly vivid to me. And there is mystery to it. The "we" in the first line seems sadly connected to the child in the last line. It makes me ponder. Wonderful poem.
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