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Ralph Long Jr.
Poet
One Saturday, while doing research on glass candlesticks in the downtown library, an aggressive page kept re-shelving my books, each time I went to find more books. Finally I decided to just sit in my carrel and confront the page, and tell her to leave my books alone. So I was daydreaming away, looking out the window and the haiku came to me: Here I sit in my little glass box

From my little seat
in a glass box full of books
I watch clouds go by

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