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the past draped about us like a cloak after Diana Khoi Nguyen

poems breed poems, as we breed children of our own and throw them to the future

as we hide ourselves in the accumulation of story, of facts and images assembled and assessed and sewn and knotted to camouflage confusion and intent

as we invent ourselves again each day in the old knowledge of speech and touch and scent and self justification

as we stand together and alone at the edge of an empty platform, toes and noses over reach the yellow line

as we throw ourselves into tomorrow, and hope

P cherrett