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poem for pastors

in his guarded tent
out of the window a sea of green trees
candles toppling sideways in tomato cans
i love the old melodious lays
brief on a flying night
and breaketh bread no more
i saw the archangels in my apple-tree last night
awful truths these be
a bird sang
why so sad my lovely one?
i had a dream and i awoke with it

 



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