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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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