A Quarterly Journal of Contemporary English Language Haibun
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June 2008, vol 4 no 2

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First Light

I thought it was dead, having been there so long, motionless, at the bowing end of an isolated spray of bamboo leaves, not even a tremble or flick of antennae, the edge of one wing tattered.

And it occurred to me what a glorious resting place this was, if one must die.

first light . . .
the Giant Swallowtail

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