I am looking at him with my mind's eye, Ceaser Augustus -- his breath creasing the air with its mist, its cutting edge.
I walked along the stones he walked along and I thought of him.
I do not know what to say to him. But I knew he fought a good fight. He was not a good man, in our modern sense. But he was a leader.
I walked under the arches created by his uncles and by his grandfathers.
Arches we must understand even though we do not understand them now.
Understanding is a bad word. We cannot measure it. What does "understand" mean? We cannot know.
Ceaser Augustus, I feel you close by. We live this summer month named for you. And there is life beyond this month Ceaser. There is life beyond this month.
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