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Loiterer
But the water — a half inch deep there, sidling in, Rumpling to sharp little ridges, with elegant Black shadows, in the level light … ripplings sent At an angle through other ripplings cross-hatch, then The surface quiets, and, smooth once again, Shivers all over … two tiny waves, blent Head-on emerge, each going the way it went … New water foams in, slides back clear and thin: The lovely loiterings, with darkness coming on, Stay with me as I finish up my run, Having had to hurry all I did today. And nothing done well, getting it all done. “That most exciting perversion,” said Hemingway, Of such forced haste; the feelings fray and splay.
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