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We fall like leaves,
anonymous as snow,
like ash, like weeds
under some farmer’s hoe.
We fear the dark
and watch the light recede.
We know death smiles
on every child conceived.
The moon goes on,
relentless in the sky;
in cold complicity,
the stars comply.
Remember me.
(How did it grow so late?)
Anonymous,
I turn the page. I wait.
David H. Freedman on smartphone apps and the perfected self, Mark Bowden on being in the dumb kids' class, James Parker on Glenn Beck, Isaac Chotiner on P. G. Wodehouse, and more
Browse back issues of The Atlantic that have appeared on the Web. From September 1995 to the present, the archive is essentially complete, with the exception of a few articles, the online rights to which are held exclusively by the authors.
See All Back Issues: September 1995
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