(34) The Citadel
We stood an island in the stream
Of faces looking tired and mean
An isle of rescue in the crowd
I held you with an arm so proud
They swarmed about us in a flow
People rushing, pressed to go
Pushing, bumping, annoyed, alert,
We stood as rocks, alive, inert.
And yet their movement showed respect
For lovers bundled in love’s net;
We clutched in timeless desperation
With love’s naïve exaggeration.
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