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What We Are Now To Both Ourselves
we are two blue clips of the clothesline
we cling to a rope
hold on, hold on
lest we fall to the ground
behind us is this blur
of trees and leaves and twigs
above us the clouds
heavy with rain
then the shower begins
hold on, hold on to the rope
lest we fall to the ground
dead and then be gone
poem
by
Ric S. Bastasa
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