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fall poem

give me hunger
brief on a flying night
city that is not a city
three days i heard them grieve when i lay dead
last night the full moon laid a cloth of white
suddenly, out of dark and leafy ways
i am a woman
let a joy keep you
somewhere i read a strange, old, rusty tale
eighty years have passed, and more
who is the runner in the skies
backward, turn backward
here lies a most beautiful lady

 



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