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give each flower a name
to go with the celtic moons –
singing moon, harvest moon, cold and
ice moon –
let them choose their colors –
many colors – perhaps changing colors with the
moons – those celtic moons – surreal, sitting

on the far end of the street –
then put the gleaming celtic flowers
in fields, meadows and the middle of
the sea…
and just as

they begin to speak, whisper aloud
the poet’s piece – the poet
will seal their lips and speechless
they will eternally be – to keep time

with the speechless universe.

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