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Norman Dubie

The sunlight passes through the window into the roomWhere you are sewing a button to your blouse: outsideWater in the fountain risesToward a cloud.  This plume of water is lighterNow, for white shares of itself are falling backToward the ground.This water does succeed, like us,In nearing a perfect exhaustion,Which is its origin.  The water Succeeds… Continue reading Norman Dubie

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