We sit in quiet circles
and talk with coffee butt
endlessness stumbling
on the unfamiliar humbled
by inexperience.
Outside the constant
whine of motorscooters
beating the lights avoiding
each other.

I suddenly think of Willie
walking his Maine woods;
30/30 crotched:
stamping a butt —

rustle of deer

whir of partridge

~Taipei, Taiwan

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