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80 CArol dorf You Had Meant to Catch It so many guides who leave me in the lurch They carelessly grow the fruit bulging out of leaf mulch How I longed to be the hero compelled to sling paint by an empty space that could not redeem him What it threshed or cut, what it sewed into the years of separation scattered shoreline farms A few coins, and a clock made of sand All things grow rigid and bright, we know we are provisional. ...

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