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The Solicitude of Solitude
if this sun were smoke it would be a shawl
spread between the olive trees, if the trees were gazelles
they’d be perched on graceful legs of frosted dew
but the sun is beaten bronze, the olive leaves are silver chalices
and now it was then, and then it was now,
in this hammock slung across the sun between the clouds
Deià, 2012
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