In Chicago, it is snowing softly
and a man has just done his wash for the week.
He steps into the twilight of early evening,
carrying a wrinkled shopping bag
...
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This is one of my favorite poems. I read it last year in english class, It's been on of my favorite poems ever since
In this poem one finds the depth of life's mystery, the daily living and dying, and the ever on going tension to balance both for as long as humanly possible, knowing full well in the final analysis which the victor shall be. We are all, in our own unique way, to just a few who care, living (and dying) legends. Excellent poem.