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45 The Art of Allegory Dark smudges seen through snowfall: are they six patient oxen, heads down, battering open the wind With their shoulders? Behind them, two men, shrunken in the white paths the animals break, Stumble forward toward a horizon that recedes as they approach the Gate of Heaven, That persistent mirage, that miracle. Decorated with tattered scarves, the animals refuse To think. They put one hoof forward, then another, dragging their masters farther into the failing twilight. ...

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