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family poem

out of the deep and the dark
let us pity those who are better off than we are
stuff of the moon
the air is full of dawn and spring
one with you
why are the things that have no death
when i was a boy at college
fat black bucks in a wine-barrel room
it was the autumn of the year
as evening falls
had he and i but met
like him whose spirit in the blaze of noon

 



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