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christmas poetry

have we no shame?
a poet, having taken the bridle off his tongue
i love my hour of wind and light
sitting in his rocker waiting for your tea
look back with longing eyes and know that i will follow
the dawn was apple-green
i love to steal awhile away
from floor to ceiling
this ancient silver bowl of mine
renew the vision of delight
but i cannot read you now
when i was broke in london

 



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