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family poetry

this is the arsenal
behold me, in my chiffon, gauze and tinsel
often i think of the beautiful town
i saw the archangels in my apple-tree last night
at dawn, he said
the fragrance came
i saw the first pear
with the sunset
when, full of warm and eager love
were it not for that singular smell
the little pitiful, worn, laughing faces
tell me not
sadly speaking

 



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