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My weekly contribution to David Abrams’ “Sunday Sentence” project in which participants share the best sentence read during the past week “out of context and without commentary.”

Dear Bill,

When I search the past for you,
Sometimes I think you are like
St. Francis, whose flesh went out
Like a happy cloud from him,
And merged with every lover —


SOURCE: Opening line from Kenneth Rexroth‘s poem “A Letter to William Carlos Williams,” found in his The Signatures of All Things collection.