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~ Bashō's Apple

sage, crushed

beneath my boots

at sunrise

the foggy tongue

of creation

murmurs my name

but i can’t quite

make out the rest

 

in my hand:

an apple

this much i know

fuji

i think to myself,

)with a smile

that no one sees(

i wonder what Bashō

would make of that.

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Taken on October 21, 2009