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modern poetry

birds against the april wind
i shake my hair in the wind of morning
now while my lips are living
candles toppling sideways in tomato cans
moonlight deep and tender
grieve not for the invisible
love has been sung a thousand ways
a look is but a ray
why do
a pen of steel
thou unrelenting past
eighty years have passed, and more
two rows of cabbages
i love my hour of wind and light

 



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