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Papyrus
Trumpets sing high
Curtains all withdrawn
The shadow
And the shepherd spreads his wings
Over the flock to hide the rain
Like a curtain cloaks a window
To the world
And as I tilt the angle of repose
The hourglass has tumbled
Making time a sweet sandstorm
The feet of ever hour
March sweet androsphynx
As enigmatic as an ancient papyrus.
Starward