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Poem: Untitled 

How does
one know
when it’s time to break camp,
can the seasonal warnings be so strong?
(can the weather make your mind
change your day)
but when I was seven
(both times)
the hands on the clock in the kitchen
went nowhere,
the battle was
so very local
and
change
is always the assassin,
invisible
felt only
in its
consequences

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  • Poetry is edited by Philip Levine.

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