She was sitting gleefully with smiles like sea
As if the waves are glittering behind her
Not in the sea but inside the woodland
To be accustomed to seeing beneficiaries
but not very selfish hereinafter.
The poorer live from hand to mouth
And the richer are upstairs.
I am growing older and the older
Not being in the foreign strand
But underneath the hot sun;
I am always in the face of a snake
like a neighbour to supplement the ideas
Beset with its quiver of intoning the race.
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