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Triolet for Late July

The nows of summer glitter in a ring:
These are cities where I had hoped to live
Until the distant cupolas outrang
The nows of summer.  Glitter on a ring,
You on the open landing, and the long
Unlineated moment I can't leave-
The nows of summer glitter in a ring.
(These are cities where I had hoped to live.)

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