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David Hinton
Wheel-Rim River
Deer Park
No one seen. Among empty mountains,
hints of drifting voice, faint, no more.
Entering these forest depths, late sun-
light flares on green moss again, rising.
Cold mountains right here day and night,
it’s easy to set out, wander as their guest.
How could I fathom affairs in these deep
forests? Only deer leave tracks here now.
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