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Just look: the egret's white
Reflects so like a cloud

Pursuing other clouds,
Which blow just like the white

Of wind-borne sand that winds
As if it were the wave

Atumble, breaking crest
All fracture like those shells

That fall from gulls whose beaks
Resemble oyster knives,

More dull than razor clams
And drabber than the speck

Of freighter farther out
Than one might ever hope

To swim, especially you
Who sees through glass egress

So clearly now what's not
Before your eyes. But look.

Joseph J. Capista


Issue 84

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