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East End Postcard Provincetown, December I love the mosaic these shacks make as they gerrymander the air for their views of the harbor. Some tiptoe on stilts right down to the water, precarious as drag queens in Fifties stilettos. An unleashed Labrador studies the jetties. Laundry lines shiver with year-rounders’ skivvies. At night Route 6 wears a fabulous topaz necklace on the décolleté bay, the marina, a tiara of lights near where I stay. What life might I live were I brave enough to love the right woman? Hourly all of us fall in the circle of P-town’s sole church bell— the gulls, quaint cottages of lovers, and me. Time has no tourists, unlike the sea, or love, although unwillingly. 26 You are reading copyrighted material published by Ohio University Press/Swallow Press. Unauthorized posting, copying, or distributing of this work except as permitted under U.S. copyright law is illegal and injures the author and publisher. ...

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