(After Basho)
Even on this
perfect afternoon,
I long for summer—
a complicated thirst.
An empty glass
is a maw, a full glass,
a vessel, and this view
of half-moon sails
clipping across
cobalt water
is so generously
poured out,
it’s no wonder
I feel hollow.
OPTIONAL POETRY 
You write beautifully =)
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thank you!
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Love the way the poem meanders and then finishes
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Glad you liked it!
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