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sister poem

gloom
when night drifts along the streets of the city
let me be sad
once this soft turf
last night the full moon laid a cloth of white
as i lie roofed in, screened in
beautiful
gaily through the fields we danced
in the sphere
through the broad earth's aching breast
long ago, in the young moonlight
to what shall a woman liken her beloved

 



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