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best love poem

see, they return
soft as the bed in the earth
a poet, having taken the bridle off his tongue
i saw the archangels in my apple-tree last night
he'd even have his joke
in his guarded tent
i saw you hunched and shivering on the stones
weak-winged is song
one sweetly solemn thought
for i was a gaunt, grave councillor
that strange companion came on shuffling feet
no prey am i of poor thoughts

 



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