The Poet
How time goes racing now when there's no need to--
when there's so little farther left to go:
over the river--under the trees. Time ought to lead us
slow...slow!
Archibald MacLeish, 1892-1982
And the poet laughed
and the poet wept
and the poet wrote his poems,
but time did not go slow--
no, time never does go slow!
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