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sad poetry

why then, must we see?
we break the glass whose sacred wine
arched the flood
there is an hour of peaceful rest
perhaps
star-dust and vaporous light
i heard the wind all day
uplifting, as the wind blew
over the rooftops race the shadows of clouds
sing again the song you sung
some of the hurts you have cured
daughter, thou art come to die

 



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