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In the late afternoon the garden is still,
moved only by breezes and distant sounds
which drift lazily over the warm wooden walls.
Shadows provide cool spots among the whispering plants,
which climb the walls and trellises and reach for the sky.
One shadow belongs to a tall woman,
in the casual dress of dark skirt, delicate sandals,
and sleeves as yellow as the flowers.
Her red belt with golden buckle matches other flowers,
as does the small purse hooked onto that belt.
Her hair is coifed and her expression focused;
she attempts to pluck one of the roses.
Using fingertips only, she bends the pale blossom
down to eye level, fingers dancing away from thorns.
In this moment she concentrates, and seems to be
speaking to that flower.
It bends down to look her in the face,
considering an answer to her greeting of
"Hello, my friend. Will you come with me?"
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