He leans upon the old gate
They sing the sweetest, dearest songs
It is difficult, and thus it fascinates me
I have met many at the closing of the day
A great bird soaring
Some ancient scribe or poet
The great wings beating, then shuddering, then still
I saw her standing there
One day a child will laugh at this
Rain at one in the morning, utter, disgusting, uncaring
A sunrise comes to mind, a waking day, optimism
Many a muddy pit was once a thoroughfare
She rises, undresses, showers.
And we weep like children weep for milk
Big and dark, and darker than that
We are living, living, living, and naked.
With a wicked Jack of Hearts, the Queen of Spades
That wars might end and we became old soldiers
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