In their hands if
not in their brains
The picture must
now in its turn
Cast its shadow on
the world, thought Zhou.
The continued gloominess of the weather
Ensured that his mood remained stable; and
On that day he made a determined effort to resist
The quartz-like glitter of concepts; and felt so loosely,
Zhou, connected with reality that reality seemed
To have unlimited freedom.
Maybe a pencil stroke or a steamship
Could provide the sharpest possible
Contrast you might think with
Water flowing downhill again.
An easy escape? Infinitely
difficult. Fantastic.
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