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Q
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Growth
I did see they grew and grew.
Growth of succulent grapes languishes futiley
as twisting vines make one seem
as any another, even the one next door.
Warmth from fury is the harvest of intense futility,
you must know by now.
Those things do still grow into nothing
less than sweetly penetrating cleverness,
to be picked one by one,
then to be savored.
C 2000
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000724
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