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grandma poem

and as we walked the grass was faintly stirred
let a joy keep you
brief on a flying night
i saw the archangels in my apple-tree last night
musing, between the sunset and the dark
from our hidden places
beside a stricken field
just now
beneath my window in a city street
moonlight deep and tender
those black eyes i once so praised
i think it just splendid
you are my companion
under dusky laurel leaf


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