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fall poetry

i saw the archangels in my apple-tree last night
and still they walked on
they ask me where i've been
why are the things that have no death
the single clenched fist lifted and ready
what was it the engines said
the swan existing
i love my hour of wind and light
i can not tell you now
how like the stars are these white, nameless faces
shadows lay along broadway
roses and gold
weak-winged is song
like eagles on up high

 



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