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baby shower poem

up from the meadows rich with corn
have you heard
like eagles on up high
i wonder where you live
i stood by the open casement
in all things not spoken of
as i lie roofed in, screened in
in and of itself
above them all, looking down
before the solemn bronze saint
when the wind works against us in the dark
and breaketh bread no more
sad are they who know not love

 



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