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concrete poetry

a gleam of gold in gloom and gray
with her hair flaying wildly
my soul is a dark ploughed field
do i like it
the shadows of the ships
i said, i have shut my heart
be in me as the eternal moods
in your flight
the long resounding marble corridors
beneath the warrior's helm
master of human destinies am i
hang no wreath
now that i have cooled to you
i loved a woman

 



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