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short poem

i gazed upon the glorious sky
she heard the children playing in the sun
uplifting, as the wind blew
within my hand i hold
stir
have we no shame?
with lips blood red and heart of stone
as evening falls
softly weeping
some of the hurts you have cured
under the harvest moon
i stood by the open casement
she has a clear, wind-sheltered loveliness

 



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