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mom poem

a look is but a ray
i am weary of being bitter and weary of being wise
out of the sparkling sea
a few more windy days
up from the south at break of day
i saw the archangels in my apple-tree last night
let us express our baser passions
earth travails
stand here by my side
that strange companion came on shuffling feet
let me move slowly through the street
i wonder where you live

 



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