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Homage to Frank O'Hara

The sea rose like so many turquoise rocks
I could not climb.  Salt stunned my eyes

but I still could see—among the edges,
the rock edges, the dancing truant colors

of the swimmers' suits.  Alas, I wished
to return and be, again, with them

on the uprising beach.  I wanted
to stand naked with them and be young.

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