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death poetry

i saw the first pear
and breaketh bread no more
i am in love with high far-seeing places
sun and wind and beat of sea
do the boys and girls still go
my mother taught me that every night
you are my companion
up and down he goes
winged shadows sweeping by
the single clenched fist lifted and ready
renew the vision of delight
under a spreading chestnut tree

 



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