In the Back Lot at Hillview Manor
On any given Thursday,
Papa adjusts the strap
And plucks out a phrase or two
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Mechanics
They tell us now
That the darkness of space
Is what’s left over,
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Two Sisters Visit Dieppe
We leave the town at noon
For a beach of white pebbles
And small, clean bones. The wind
Whips our sensible skirts, and sun glints
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