Been over 20 years now:
Stumbled on an old photograph today. My eyes got wet the minute I saw him. This was my faithful friend of many years. Cherokee was his name, in the field I called him “Keet”. He was not only eager to retrieve but was proud to drop his feathered quarry at my feet. He still lives in my heart.
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Phlebas the Phoenician, a fortnight dead, forgot the cry of gulls, and the deep sea swell and the profit and loss.
A current under sea picked his bones in whispers. As he rose and fell he passed the stages of his age and youth entering the whirlpool. Gentile or Jew O you who turn the wheel and look to windward, Consider Phlebas, who was once handsome and tall as you.
T.S. Eliot
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