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broken heart poem

sleep, gray brother of death
this is the song of youth
birds against the april wind
i saw the first pear
out of the window a sea of green trees
afraid no more, i say
who loves the rain
like him whose spirit in the blaze of noon
often is it not so?
let a joy keep you
i know not where
i love my life, but not too well
somewhere i read a strange, old, rusty tale

 



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