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Poetry

the catch

he juggles it

left to right

right to left

standing motionless

mesmerised by its

movement

he pauses

for an instant

it floats

the spin of it

a planet turning

on its axis

green and yellow

the frog-leaf ball

remorseless as fate

arcs towards me

propelled by an

immediately inaccessible

mathematical

mechanical

logic

in a moment

beyond awareness

when the contours

of the real

somehow take shape

and enfold all in their grasp

it finds its way

into my outstretched palm

the body

the body

has plucked

it out of thin air

a flower which has fallen

from heaven

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