WHEN THE ARM GETS
RAISED IN DEJECTION
It's only one minor paragraph
reduction - or perhaps a footnote
alone - but the eye tends to waver
at the end of the night; not again,
please no. I walk away dejected;
tired and silly and sad and forlorn.
-
Then the jester comes : his return
appearance is a like a major chapter
heading. I see him blooming over
the levee, the dam-wall, the canal.
Anything with water like that. He
sings a song of sixpence and a
pocketful of rye; or is that 'wry'?
-
An old lady I know has lost her mind.
One rest home rejected her, and now
turned her out; the other was rejected
by her keepers. Ashes, ashes we all
fall down.
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