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Before

 Before the gate has been closed,
before the last quetion is posed,
before I am transposed.
Before the weeds fill the gardens, before there are no pardons, before the concrete hardens.
Before all the flute-holes are covered, beore things are locked in then cupboard, before the rules are discovered.
Before the conclusion is planned, before God closes his hand, before we have nowhere to stand.

Poem by Yehuda Amichai
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Book: Shattered Sighs