Low pressure thousands of miles away
Brings an absolute calm
Even the birdsong carries reverence
The blossom is full right now
Days ahead of silent nervous waiting
For the winds to pick up
For the rainstorms to come hither flourishing
Pinks and crimsons and greens
Of lime and grass and silk-satin cushions
I am in no rush to get there
To the withering to the certain decay
I have a locket with a picture of the day
That first day when we cut back on food
Not then out of financial necessity
That though as a matter of course came later
Accompanying the substantial withdrawal
Marshalled by the silence and the shadows
Governed by the longtime mute ex-mistress
Who now you see barely clings on
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