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lyric poetry

at dawn, he said
candles toppling sideways in tomato cans
the arches of the red bridge
a little peach in the orchard grew
there was a strangeness on your lips
often is it not so?
love has been sung a thousand ways
babylon-where i go dreaming
arched the flood
there was a time in former years
very well, you liberals
before the solemn bronze saint
no prey am i of poor thoughts
will you glimmer on the sea?

 



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