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"starnbergersee" poems
Starnbergersee and Eliot telling me that Marie was family and I believed him because he was a prophet and poet. Didn't know it then that some men are born to be and others only born like the winds that blow over the Starnbergersee constantly. Time had changed him though and he became old and slow, Marie too got older in the face, changed and ripened like fruit in the marketplace. Time in its time becomes the infinite stupidity of the apocryphal rhyme, a line to live by or die for. I still look for the sled in the snow knowing I'll never see it.
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May 10, 2016
May 10, 2016 at 3:53 PM UTC
As deep as the lake is long