The Boy (Marilyn Hacker Poem)
It is the boy in me who's looking out the window, while someone across the street mends a pillowcase, clouds ...
It is the boy in me who's looking out the window, while someone across the street mends a pillowcase, clouds ...
Spring wafts up the smell of bus exhaust, of bread and fried potatoes, tips green on the branches, repeats old ...
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