ALL THE THINGS ONCE
MEANT TO DO
The daybreak too has a memory, and I am holding
a shovel not larger than a spoon. Everything I ever
was is now in view - ladle this and ladle that. 'In Sicily,'
Plato wrote, 'people built as if they were never to die,
and eat as if they had not an hour to live.' Reliving the
telling, I eat sparsely and build not at all. It is a shame
to waste all these talents. The daring man, I await,
must still come forth from somewhere.
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