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Mark at the Weight Machine
Head down,
hands folded together
standing before the weight machine
as before a mighty master.
Silent,
submissive,
breathing slowly --
a broad, strong back waiting
to be commanded.
You could be a figure
in a da Vinci charcoal, a torso
in a gallery of Roman sculpture.
Odd to see you later
by the elevators, grinning,
in slacks and a tie.
September, 2002
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