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Click hereIt snowed in June this year,
but my neighbor moved away,
taking her too short kimono,
her naked peach so luscious,
I forgot arduous chores
of shoveling a heavy wet slop
to plowing a heady split, whispering
amorous words, most sincere.
All that remains of her are an empty
porch swing, frozen roses and a
fruit tree to never be picked for
the best damn peach jam I've ever had.