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PoemsMy grandfather—German Of beer and blue skies, When he learned that, at four, He hoisted me in summer air, The sluggish murk and let go. The wind was wasp and pollen, I smacked the sun-fierce surface Then silence and stunned slowness. Hung between what glows above This article originally appeared in The New Criterion, Volume 28 October 2009, on page 31 Copyright © 2012 The New Criterion | www.newcriterion.com http://www.newcriterion.com/articles.cfm/Welcome-to-all-the-pleasures-4302
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