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nature poem

still thirteen years
braided and woven
a poet, having taken the bridle off his tongue
as a naked man i go
i am the wind that wavers
let a joy keep you
the body may confine
not from the whole wide world
are you awake?
what shall we do now
i cannot always feel his greatness
sitting in his rocker waiting for your tea
the poets tell
high walls and huge

 



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