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contemporary poetry

the arches of the red bridge
in the dark and peace of my final bed
arched the flood
while i stood listening, discreetly dumb
when the hours of day are numbered
there was a time in former years
leave the lovely words unsaid
with joy and wonder
i flung my soul to the air like a falcon flying
all within and all without me
night is dark, and the winter winds
very well, you liberals
i saw with open eyes

 



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