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autumn poem

often i think of the beautiful town
be patient, life, when love is at the gate
i fill this cup
do you hear the rain?
let me move slowly through the street
tell me less or tell me more
the darkness steals the forms of all the queens
old wine to drink
i said
i am in love with high far-seeing places
i heard the wind all day
night is dark, and the winter winds

 



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