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I touched hands that had felt
the chill of 94 winters,
fingers that had stretched in the sunlight
of as many springs.
When I touched your feet,
I touched feet that had walked
the paths of nine decades,
toes curling and uncurling through
the uncertainty of five wars.
When I touched your arms,
I touched the arms that had
braced you from and embraced the world,
a world I know only through
historians and faded photographs.
When I stared into the shell of your eyes,
I saw the screen upon which
a million irreplaceable scenes
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