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concrete poetry

some of the hurts you have cured
shades of night were falling fast
since, if you stood by my side today
i saw the clouds among the hills
if i had known how narrow a prison is love
do not turn your head
a blue-black nubian plucking oranges
i do not pray for peace
are you awake?
the meadow was creeping
why do you always stand there shivering
storm
lo! 'tis a gala night
i reside at table mountain

 



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