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A Progression of Haikus

By: Abigail Weintraub

Morning light streams though

Blankets of tree canopies

Hike through emerald greens

Year or so later

Same hike, same trail, crickets chirp

This time, it’s softer

Mourning rivers weep

Fractured stones, collecting dust

Gemstone hues fade out

Distantly, cranes hum

Vacant trees on bygone cliffs

Now a shopping mall

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