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def poetry jam

could we but know
eighty years have passed, and more
the single clenched fist lifted and ready
so fallen
i am the wind that wavers
mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam
a pen of steel
let me move slowly through the street
above them all, looking down
when i returned at sunset
glooms of the live-oaks
i stood by the open casement
desolate and lone

 



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