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elements of poetry

i am old and blind
for these white arms about my neck
better than granite
i go my way complacently
woman much missed, how you call to me, call to me
take my bracelets
do the boys and girls still go
green afternoon serene and bright
my true love from her pillow rose
in new york harbor
like eagles on up high
have we no shame?
against the green flame of the hawthorn-tree

 



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