STATION
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e descendInto a wall of green.Straggling shapes:Afterwards none are seen. I find myselfAlone.I look back:The city has grown. One grey wallWindowed, unlit.Heavily, nightCrushes the face of it. I go on.My memories freezeLike birds' cryIn hollow trees. I go on.Up and outrightTo the hostilityOf night.
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