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Poets Laureate

The Summer Houses

All winter long they are occupied only by their vacancy.
The paintings look out from the white walls.
The wicker beds and the wicker chairs are not taken.

from Littlefoot

35. The level’s so low in the short pond,The snipe seems to walk on water,ruffling his dagger-drawn wingsAs he heads for the next mossed hillock.Suddenly, under a cloud, the sun’s bottom auras the pond’s surface,And snipe is consumed by fire [...]

The House Slave

The first horn lifts its arm over the dew-lit grass
and in the slave quarters there is a rustling—
children are bundled into aprons, cornbread