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This could take a lifetime but they've taken it away, and where our plan was laid upon the lengthening of the day of man does not apply,
it's a why so,why not no and never mind the time will go and go we will until our toil is stilled.
***** hands on dirtied lands and can we clean where we have been and if we can, what then the plan or do we carry on until the goodness of the soil is gone and if we do what do we do with all the waste we leave behind?
If we are blind then let us see.
The last boat sails at five to three and I intend to sail with all the best,
I leave the rest to you.
 Aug 2013 brooke
P.K. Page
In love they wore themselves in a green embrace.
A silken rain fell through the spring upon them.
In the park she fed the swans and he
whittled nervously with his strange hands.
And white was mixed with all their colours
as if they drew it from the flowering trees.

At night his two finger whistle brought her down
the waterfall stairs to his shy smile
which like an eddy, turned her round and round
lazily and slowly so her will
was nowhere—as in dreams things are and aren't.

Walking along avenues in the dark
street lamps sang like sopranos in their heads
with a voilence they never understood
and all their movements when they were together
had no conclusion.

Only leaning into the question had they motion;
after they parted were savage and swift as gulls.
asking and asking the hostile emptiness
they were as sharp as partly sculptured stone
and all who watched, forgetting, were amazed
to see them form and fade before their eyes.

— The End —