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while i stood listening, discreetly dumb
as a naked man i go
i saw you hunched and shivering on the stones
i saw the first pear
sweet with fern and rose
i am old and blind
i reside at table mountain
up to her chamber window
sweet splendor
melancholy, blue it was
there is no flock, however watched and tended
a thin gray shadow on the edge of thought
with the meek, brown eyes
along a river-side

 



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