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The state of the world calls out for poetry to save it.
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to agree that we see the same moment, watch
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There is an under, always,
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up: airglow: sky a cicatrix: purpling, paler, damage,
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when everything is snow
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Often I imagine the earth
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My heart becomes
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And you’ve made the world. And it is vast
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And which, though taken to be tame and staid,
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I love a person leaving who sees birds in other worlds, nearby.
