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Concordance Random poem
Slanting Lines
In stasis, what’s to do?
Can we not
find some way to move, to go,
to travel in the mind, some gentle
way to wander into
a better place, a future that
revives, replenishes, makes good
the damaged present, this dark night?
Not to return to old
ways—that age
has passed. What should
we salvage from it, what burn,
what reconstruct and
what re-imagine? Not to rave
at fate, at chance, at
what has come about, but to close
an open sore, renew our sense of
time, rebuild the day.