June 7

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A drowsy thought, how the name
sounds like a plucked string, Kyoto–

I’ve never been, but have read some Basho–
his sad bird calling, air that cracks.

Another one of these!
Too tired to rest, this less

a dream of a place and more
a dream of dreaming,

of foreign concepts– laquered maples,
bamboo groves, and sleeping

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