Recalling a poet, in a year old death,
We would think of poet’s old wishes

And our own by the river in a gloom
As the lone tree’s wishes stood by it.

The tree’s wishes stood by the river
And the river’s waters stood silently

A dammed up body in  deep silence
With  warning gloom stuck in mud.

Poet is gnarled tree by muddy river.
His calm is stuck in  year old death.

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