Meadowland brimmed
with winter waters,
all-boundary-broken freshets.
Running every way,
criss-crossing expanses,
widening juncture pools
where new quills poke;
waken out of mirror shiver,
early green spears.
The dry amphitheater
of grass for leagues,
winded to death, pale bleached,
in sunlight, bodiless, hisses.
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