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Awkward haiku,
a state of flux.
Should I choose my words more carefully?

Paper books
A slow, silent conversation
across the centuries

Rustling of leaves -
between the lines
fictional characters collide

Dewey numbers tag the fruit
Starts out with knowledge
ends up with pruning

crane fly
Shelved art, an absense of images
Words don't arrive
until too late

Shouting in semaphore
I wave my arms
Some people laugh, not kindly

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