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thank you poem

through the broad earth's aching breast
up from the south at break of day
they ask me where i've been
earth travails
of sun nor stars
glooms of the live-oaks
he speaks not well
in his guarded tent
she knows a cheap release
softly weeping
i wonder where you live
old wine to drink
let me move slowly through the street
be in me as the eternal moods

 



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