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ymmiJ
Poems
Feb 2021
A Basho Cento
waking at night
only my dreams wander
how cold it is!
From these three Basho Poems:
waking at night;
the lamp is low,
the oil freezing
sick on my journey
only my dreams wander
these desolate moors
the leeks
newly washed white-
how cold it is!
Written by
ymmiJ
M/Anchorage
(M/Anchorage)
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