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33 air Air, air, you are the distantmost thing I know, Not even the whales in their patterns upon and under The sea, are more inscrutable, to me; You carry sails of travelers to interesting places, And adventurers, sailors, or just plain traders; You encourage the bicyclist to mount his apparatus And you are ever present during swimming lessons So that when the reluctant swimmer may emerge From the water an instant, he’ll freeze; And air, you are hanging around fetid places Always, ready to clear the dank atmosphere With a breath of yourself; I have found you in The slums of the intellect even, about to puff When the mind is hopelessly weak after travel, And in the lines of poems, pointless to all others, Poised like a bouquet, sprightly and colorful. London, 1962 ...

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