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Playing in four dimensions [poem]

In the big house
of the old friend
I passed through
an empty room

No one uses this room
I thought

And then the children
who had made the room
suddenly ran about
playing hide and seek
and
cricket
and
arranging toys in inscrutable patterns
and
sitting in that alcove over there
reading a book

The room is sad
and so am I
that the children are now
playing somewhere else

but then we remember
that they are out there
still playing





































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