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Westwood,
and a homeless man
raises his hand
like a benediction
over the trash can.
On the street
old ladies promenade
like today-only ads
in yesterday’s newspaper.
Sunset,
and the sky is washed
in shades of mauve, then blue –
not like that steel-edged daytime hue –
but near and kind,
like a mother’s touch,
shelter for all her children.
--a gift from Alice, May 2003
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