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| W. Eugene Smith, Walnut Street, Pittsburgh, 1950s. |
Surely it was too much
to expect our fragment of time
to become eternity
But the card you sent
showed something of yourself
with so few words
And you quoted Neruda
as we rode out of the tunnel
into the propellers of sunset
Everything
seemed possible
I thought
this would be easier
My soul is created
by thousands of images
I cannot erase.
