A knot of dew mounts
her blade, plants a clammy kiss.
The jerk cuts her off.
-- Beth Bentley, Don't (Haiku 1)
Why do you do what you dew?
Sweet life to flowers
the misty gateway of morning
In our joints, our veins, our hearts
what cycles in the seasons
in all things that flow
"water of life"
"is" not "of"
So it is to you dear water
I write now and warn you
that I'm telling every poet I know:
when the words do not flow
it is you that is to blame.
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