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haiku poem

just as my fingers on these keys
in mournful numbers
did you ever see an alligator
with her hair flaying wildly
listen to the sounding sea
i am dying
do the boys and girls still go
under dusky laurel leaf
under the harvest moon
i stood
often is it not so?
when sea-winds pierced our solitudes
there are gains for all our losses
the long resounding marble corridors

 



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