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sorry poem

there is an hour of peaceful rest
behold me, in my chiffon, gauze and tinsel
with the sunset
burly, dozing humble-bee
the sky
i cannot always feel his greatness
backward, turn backward
gaily through the fields we danced
as i lie roofed in, screened in
very well, you liberals
just as my fingers on these keys
i saw with open eyes

 



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