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concrete poetry

come down at dawn from windless hills
all within and all without me
your body's motion is like music
i know what you're going to say
once this soft turf
in the sphere
wheel me down by the meadow
master of human destinies am i
and breaketh bread no more
the saddest of the year
rising moon has hid the stars
do you think, my boy, when i put my arms around you

 



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