They changed for dinner. In those days //
no one was in a hurry, it was real time //
every time. Usually the streets were saddled with fog //
at night. In the daytime it mostly blew away. //
We kept on living because we knew how. //
Maple seeds like paperclips skittered in the allees. //
We knew not how many enthusiasts climbed the slope, //
nor how long they took. It was, in the words of one, //
"beholding" not to know. We eased by.
-- John Ashbery, "Tension in the Rocks"
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