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sympathy poem

roses and gold
a gleam of gold in gloom and gray
over the rooftops race the shadows of clouds
i loved a woman
what do i owe to you
let me move slowly through the street
she knows a cheap release
and as we walked the grass was faintly stirred
gloom
woman much missed, how you call to me, call to me
two rows of cabbages
city that is not a city

 



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