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footprint poem

the sun is up
we were not many
the darkness rolls upward
one with you
over the rooftops race the shadows of clouds
i am weary of being bitter and weary of being wise
star-dust and vaporous light
simplicity
i loathed you
hang no wreath
the ships are lying in the bay
i had over-prepared the event
the single clenched fist lifted and ready

 



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