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The Night-Forests14 February 1996
They wanted everything, so they took it: the leaves from the trees ... and the trees; movement and stillness and the light from the sun ... and from where I stand on the filthy beach outside the yacht-club, even the surface of the water.
We are inhabited by these -- the night-forests -- the long masts of their boats white in the evening and stinking of salt ... tall and thin and white; at the end of the world ... in grief. ... M.T.C. Cronin 
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