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peck at bugs in the same yard—
we can keep our distance,
close enough but mostly apart,
pinpoint beaks never touching.
How I don’t want destructive
caterpillars in my garden,
but welcome butterflies
with lacy wings flitting on flowers
instead of nibbling green leaves.
How age is measured not by years
but by moments of restraint,
in the quiet discipline of respect.
Each choice to act with care
saves us from what we bare.
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