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THE SMALL BLUE HERON i. He is not the last one. I wish he were. Do I? My friends brought him into the kitchen In a waste basket and Took him out and Set him down. I stroked his long throat On the floor. I was glad to hear him Croaking with terror. 2. The Nazis assigned A dour man To drive a truck every morning. They called him "King of the Jews." One evening, a dour man, An Old Jew, sought out the King. "You! Schmo! When you pick me up tomorrow, Put me on top of the stack, I've got asthma." 3He is not the last one. There is a darkening place Among the cattails on the other side of the river. The blue heron has gone there this evening, Darkening into a reed that the fastidious fox Never dreamed of. WILLY LYONS My uncle, a craftsman of hammers and wood, Is dead in Ohio. And my mother cries she is angry. Willy was buried with nothing except a jacket Stitched on his shoulder bones. It is nothing to mourn for. I58 ...

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