pale rabbit-tail in ther almost-night
angling across broken driveway
& i return, enamelled gate clank,
wizened wood; my own limbs creaking
"Hushed is the lake of hawks
Bright with our excitement,
And all the sky of skulls
Glows with scarlet roses;
The melter of men and salt
Admires the drinker of iron:
Bold banners of meaning
Blaze o'er the host of days."
--The Age of Anxiety
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