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death poetry

those black eyes i once so praised
one by one, like leaves from a tree
and with the humming bird
a storm is riding on the tide
risen from the dead
the shadows of the ships
when sea-winds pierced our solitudes
beneath my window in a city street
the air is full of dawn and spring
have we no shame?
just as my fingers on these keys
skies they were ashen and sober

 



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