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haiku poem

braided and woven
a thin gray shadow on the edge of thought
beautiful, tragical faces
in september
lady, your heart has turned to dust
to be able to see every side of every question
as it
the old west, the old time
when the veil from the eyes is lifted
i have heard that a certain princess
the little pitiful, worn, laughing faces
we were not many
since i have felt the sense of death

 



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