Parading

All those I remembered passed through my hands like clouds—

Everything going away in the night again and again. —Donald Justice
Clouds out of the south, familiar clouds—
Clouds out of the south, familiar clouds—
But I could not hold on to them, they were drifting away,
But I could not hold on to them, they were drifting away,
Everything going away in the night again and again. —Donald Justice
Everything going away in the night again and again.
—Donald Justice

atoms

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