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funeral poem

i loathed you
the dawn was apple-green
when i go back to earth
the arches of the red bridge
there was never a sound beside the wood but one
dear wife
she said
last night the full moon laid a cloth of white
i am fevered
i never knew the earth had so much gold
i saw the archangels in my apple-tree last night
my soul goes clad in gorgeous things
blossoms of babies

 



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