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William Carlos Williams - The Hunter
Work rating: Low

In the flashes and black shadows 
of July 
the days, locked in each other`s arms, 
seem still 
so that squirrels and colored birds 
go about at ease over 
the branches and through the air. 

Where will a shoulder split or 
a forehead open and victory be? 

Nowhere. 
Both sides grow older. 

And you may be sure 
not one leaf will lift itself 
from the ground 
and become fast to a twig again.
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