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Dread-fi lled, and what am I doing there --
And my son is a puny baby, putting by
His pitiful few possessions with great care
Next to him, on the rug. As I
Laugh hard, he crawls off , thin-limbed, spirited,
On his own, to disappear
Through a dark opening, sloping below his bed --
[left unfi nished]
ca. 1979; August 23, 1996