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autumn poem

there is no flock, however watched and tended
how like the stars are these white, nameless faces
tripping up, falling down
for truth, for love
when freedom from her mountain height
i cannot always feel his greatness
i stood
lady, your heart has turned to dust
night is dark, and the winter winds
listen
in mournful numbers
sweet with fern and rose
out of me unworthy and unknown
look back with longing eyes and know that i will follow

 



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