For the coming new year
In the turn
of leaf, in the play of light,
the Segre
tangles shoreline growth.
Burdock,
fennel, birdsfoot and vetch.
All the wintered
vegetation I don’t know.
In the
unrinsed water, in the reeds,
the stolen
word requires some gift—
briefly
prepositional, best wishes
for the
coming new year.
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