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pastor appreciation poem

in and of itself
one with you
through the broad earth's aching breast
as i lie roofed in, screened in
stir
my sorrow, when she's here with me
let us pity those who are better off than we are
who loves the rain
a poet, having taken the bridle off his tongue
why are the things that have no death
to what shall a woman liken her beloved
i heard the wind all day

 



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