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Sixty-Five

Now spring
The cricket
Sings

Inside
The house
The babe

Wonders
The window’s
Talking frame

Your bare crown
Regrows in
Fine gray tendrils

I am aging
Faster than
The seasons

The balm
Of childsong
Naturally  

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   Contributor’s notes

   Sixty-One
   Sixty-Five
   Sixty-Nine