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After the Chinese
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Published: Tue Jul 01 2008
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AGNI Online

After the Chinese

for Stuart Dischell


Sunlight on ice-hardened snow.
In the woods, a wooden bridge.
Friend, when we left home,

you chose South; I chose North.

Now we’re neither young nor wise.
A bird, tricked by sun, starts to sing—
wordless, and without news.

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