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Another Sweeping the Floor-in-the-Store Poem
When the cold, dusty wind blew,
he recalled the French toast at The Clock.
The photograph of the brothers tilted
& kept on tilting, no matter annoyed straightening.
The two men in tuxes smile in profile.
One wears a red tie, both beards.
When sunlight dapples the blinds,
shut the door to keep the candle lit.
The door to the back room they called
The Back Room rattled with hooks & lures.
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