Permit me
To recapitulate
Upon rising
This day shortened
To a morrow
In the pit
Of the afternoon
Shadows stretch
For the edge of a night
No longer than the rest
Dead to the world
With rapid eyes
In the middling
Wrung
Is quartered grace
Unconcerned
With gaming time
What a terrible muse
To twist away
Just when the band
Got going
Tom McGlynn
copyright 2014
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