The Acquaintance

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We came across each other
in the garden.
Beg pardon, he said, as he bit my hand.
With such good manners
and clean-green looks I let it stand.
Presently, with a long-feelered sweep
he gravitated to my knee
where he speck-of-lime-grasshopper-squatted politely
gnawing casually;
I was consoled for a time
by the small pain
of his friendliness to me.

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