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Her cherry tree is flowering now, bitty, pretty sparsely, mind, January, bleak-mid, four degrees.
Hebe, mono-club-foot, shattered a plus-sized pot years since, twisted upright, taller than I, daring this day also to offer - purple flowers - gratuitously to barrens.
A sky-beach, dimple-blue above, long-ridged with white-waved delicate treads -
the brittle willows raking.
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