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narrative poetry

as evening falls
one sweetly solemn thought
i reside at table mountain
i stood by the open casement
how shall i help to right the world that is going wrong
a gleam of gold in gloom and gray
in new york harbor
and how could you dream of meeting
all within and all without me
the long resounding marble corridors
within this lowly grave a conqueror lies
i flung my soul to the air like a falcon flying
i do not pray for peace
little gate was reached at last

 



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