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By Watching

I listen to your advice so closely
That mice stop to look back over their shoulders
And I read a corner of your eye
Even though its worrisome as frost
Your hand I remember from years ago
But I study it now like a new enemy
A lovely hill that slowly turns around
As if trains were still with us
Sometimes I think your hair decides my future.
Freed from a radio I can barely hear

Your feet and ideas are most important to me
They've become more and more like pigeons
Or anything else I can't scare away
All together what you've done for me
Looks like a set of spoons
Tastes like towels do at the edge of water
And lasts as long as anything does
In a wide blue frame.


-- Hiram Larew




Originally published by L D Books, used with permission.


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