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Sight Reading (Free verse) by Christof
Praise be to chance - Or God, for God, we think, is just A name for probability's dance - For the way the sheep speckled on the frost Seem like quavers on the five-wire fence And frame a tune that will not last But does in sight and sound condense The crackling white of the brilliant grass And so it takes the present tense And makes it vast.

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INTRANSIT69.23.157.19710December 23, 2007 10:53 AM PST

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