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1 " Ars Poetica II"I find, after all these years, I am a believer—I believe what the thunder and lightning have to say;I believe that dreams are real, and that death has two reprisals;I believe that dead leaves and black water fill my heart.I shall die like a cloud, beautiful, white, full of nothingness.The night sky is an ideogram, a code card punched with holes.It thinks it’s the word of what’s-to-come.It thinks this, but it’s only The Library of Last Resort,The reflected light of The Great Misunderstanding.God is the fire my feet are held to. "
― Charles Wright , Appalachia: Poems
2 " We disappear as stars do, soundless, without a trace. "