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Too Slow Are We To See.
I watch him stand, a silent hill he stands
Slow grace dressed in paling skin
He turns the oceans with his hands
Too slow are we to see.
Too slow are we to understand.
I leave this day to find a way
To find the words with which to say
To find the breath with which to pray
I’ll be back another day.
poem
by
David Lacey
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