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type of poetry

while i stood listening, discreetly dumb
come down at dawn from windless hills
a pen of steel
we who stood
what do i owe to you
when i was a boy at college
i am singing to you
i flung my soul to the air like a falcon flying
for then without
the single clenched fist lifted and ready
all those treasures that lie
as i lie roofed in, screened in
i am old and blind

 



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