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haiku poetry

he'd even have his joke
i am weary of being bitter and weary of being wise
the dawn was apple-green
they in the darkness gather and ask
we break the glass whose sacred wine
i am the wind that wavers
at midnight
thoughts through my head
here falls no light
suddenly, out of dark and leafy ways
your body's motion is like music
the arches of the red bridge
in the dark and peace of my final bed

 



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