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Wednesday, August 24, 2016



This summer's rejection,

its tart magic blazing

in the rainbow flood,

Can reflect no middling passing,

nor leave unremarked smirks

of sand-drying lips in repose;

Can betray not in mad oil

or colors watered down

rich economy of salient laughing,

For truly the sign, the signature,

the thing unclocked is death

redeemed in thundering growth.

Jerry W. Ward, Jr.

August 24, 2016

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