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What arc does a man cut
skating through a generation—
there is a leaning into
what seems like a stiff headwind,
a long shadow races ahead
into a dark horizon—
all along the edges of the pond
there are clutches of people
frozen in conversation,
out of the mainstream,
yet somewhere in the void
a voice calls out
to those standing in the margins.


All Poems © Copyright 2004, E. G. Happ, All Rights Reserved.

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