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life poem

of sun nor stars
against the green flame of the hawthorn-tree
to come so soon to this imagined dark
while i stood listening, discreetly dumb
fat black bucks in a wine-barrel room
i am in love with high far-seeing places
there was a strangeness on your lips
listen
when i returned at sunset
you say you love me
what was it the engines said
i fill this cup
the little white prayers
beautiful, tragical faces

 



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