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Five, seven, and five: The tempo lifts me away. I land in years past. Muscles ossify; Bags deepen beneath my lids; My heart fills with love. Artistic seeds sprout When sown in fertile soil, Like dear Friends’ embrace. Tradition? What’s that? Meaning and purpose elude us. We care for form and fun. We sling syllables, Sound for sound and word for word, Fulfilling; being filled. Haiku Battle "Best Of" beneath the break... Nashville, March 6-8, 2009
Old Greer House, April 3-5, 2009
Atlanta, January 15-17, 2010
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