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sad death poem

moonlight deep and tender
a bird sang
before the solemn bronze saint
a sky that has never known sun, moon or stars
this ancient silver bowl of mine
my soul goes clad in gorgeous things
the lightning flashed, and lifted
still her gray rocks tower above the sea
under dusky laurel leaf
so fallen
i saw with open eyes
if i had known how narrow a prison is love
be patient, life, when love is at the gate

 



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