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graylensman

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The latest issue of "The New Yorker" included this poem by John Updike:

<b>Duet On Mars</b>

Said Spirit to Opportunity,
"I'm feeling rather frail,
With too much in my memory,
Plus barrels of e-mail."

Responded Opportunity,
"My bounce was not so bad,
But now they send me out to see
These dreary rocks, bdad!"

"It's cold up here, and rather red,"
Sighed Spirit. "I feel faint."
Good Opportunity then said,
"Crawl on, without complaint!"

"This planet needs our shovels' bite
And treadmarks in the dust
To tell if life and hematite
Pervade its arid crust."

"There's life, by all the stars above,
On Mars - it's you and I!"
Blithe Spirit cried. "Let's rove, my love,
And meet before we die!"



-- it brought a smile to my face this morning. I hope it does the same for you. :)
 
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