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Harvey Milk
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I Did Not Call Out
Slowly she got up
Reached into her bag
Got her thirty-eight
And walked into the trees.
Then I heard the shot
In no time at all
I just sat in wait
I did not call out.
As I sat, I looked.
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There was something everywhere.
In the pine needles
and the humus
where I sat
There was something.
In the dead gray ashes,
There was grace.
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