Things

Here is part of a poem I heard on the radio today:

Distant and dead resuscitate,
They show as the dial or move as the hands of me, I am the
clock myself.

Again the long roll of the drummers,
Again the attacking cannon, mortars,
Again to my listening ears the cannon responsive.

It’s on the writer’s almanac, you can go read the whole thing from today if you’d like.


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