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LEAVING
A
juvenile thing it is, to be told, changing sandals,
that
the weather cannot last, because it has.
There
has been no summer like it. My
daughter and I
prepare
for the boat. She packs a
spade
and
tells me it cannot last. Each
year the house
grows,
and grows more devices: white
wooden
summer villa raised upon stone.
...
(For full text see
the Kindle ebook The
Nature of Things (Collected Poems) by Alan Marshfield)
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