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broken heart poem

this ancient silver bowl of mine
the rain was over, and the brilliant air
earth travails
eighty years have passed, and more
and as we walked the grass was faintly stirred
afraid no more, i say
simplicity
though love repine, and reason chafe
birds against the april wind
from our hidden places
the sky
that strange companion came on shuffling feet
a mile behind
i said, i have shut my heart

 



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