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short poem

candles toppling sideways in tomato cans
under the harvest moon
long has the summer sunlight shone
let me move slowly through the street
pushing out, struggling vainly
do you think, my boy, when i put my arms around you
sweet with fern and rose
we who stood
day is done
calm as that second summer
over the rooftops race the shadows of clouds
very well, you liberals
so lost
woman much missed, how you call to me, call to me

 



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