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child poetry

soft as the bed in the earth
shadows lay along broadway
a thousand silent years ago
old wine to drink
since, if you stood by my side today
braided and woven
a poet, having taken the bridle off his tongue
the poets tell
the swan existing
beside a stricken field
suddenly, out of dark and leafy ways
woman much missed, how you call to me, call to me
there by the window in the old house

 



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