The desert calls
my one friend through it all
it sings a red goodbye
and welcomes in its breezy nights.
There nothing is asked
but for me to breath
and to move
across the sand
like a silent owl.
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The year of the poem is finished, now it is the year for the protocol! Read about the misadventures of a plant scientist trying to make sense of photorespiration one mutant at a time.
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