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It is the last hour before
The body's failure will swamp
The struggling mind in dreaming sleep;
And a dull fly, a single one
Of daylight's swarming insect drift,
Swats the silence across the ceiling
As it blats and bumbles into a personal oblivion.
You might almost think
The seas of Tellos froze.

Copyright © 1975, 2004 Hugh Cook

Picture of front cover of ARC OF LIGHT poetry collection by Hugh Cook.

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