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Poetry
by Daniel Barbare
The Hawk
Across
the
yard
I
see
a
shadow
I
go
to
the
window
and
see
a
soaring
hawk
perfect
as
it
is
created
to
be
in
the
eye
of
the
sun.
In Miley’s Dog House
As
darn
messy
as
a
day
can
be
when
the
sky
is
gray
and
the
rain
is
falling
so
much
depends
on
love
a
tin
bowl
of
kibble
and
milk
bones
and
water.
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