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anniversary poetry

in and of itself
sing again the song you sung
in may
roses and gold
burly, dozing humble-bee
mysterious night
my mother twines me roses wet with dew
gaily through the fields we danced
for truth, for love
the swan existing
one by one, like leaves from a tree
see, from this counterfeit of him
why do you always stand there shivering
all those treasures that lie

 



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