Here's a little quatrain called:

On Going Deaf

On Going Deaf

I've lost a sense. Why should I care?
Searching myself I find a spare.
I keep that sixth sense in repair
And deftly set it, like a snare.

from Poems 1955 - 2005 (Bloodaxe, 2005), copyright ? Anne Stevenson 2005, used by permission of the author

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