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type of poem

i make my shroud, but no one knows
mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam
splendid and terrible your love
gingham dog and the calico cat
looking beyond
often is it not so?
i saw the first pear
i sometimes wonder if it's really true
high walls and huge
they ask me where i've been
the darkness rolls upward
softly now the light of day
i saw the archangels in my apple-tree last night
i had over-prepared the event

 



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