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I called the rain with all my heart,
wanting to feel its clean water on my face
washing away the heat and sweat
that the weightiness of the afternoon
insisted on leaving.
I begged it to wrop me in...
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Behind the windows
the trees sway calmly,
like seaweeds
under a sleeping sea,
and the greenness
there of going to and fro
calms me down
and gives me hope.
Their large leaves
fan the air
and their...
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Visual poetry brings to life Maine's devastating ice storm in 1998. Residents often recall when their beloved woods seem to scream in pain as weighted limbs cracked and fell all around them....
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Winter has gone
at last into retreat
and spring is here;
The sky is blue
with little cloud now,
has given the Pacific flow
into Whangaparaoa Bay
its colour too;
...
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I used to climb the trees in this woods. Sometimes my kids would climb them with me when they were younger and excited by such simple things. The woods filmed here have since been removed for...
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