Day follows night here and night swallows day;
Yet day after day, I see your frail form;
Solemn sanguine style watching the world play;
Only your dialect stays to etch your own norm.
You and your shadow sit in sharp contrast;
In silence I note your lonely stirrings;
Cold stone bench meadow seems your vantage thrust;
Alone and remote your piquant watching.
People...
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