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short love poem

sun stepped down from his golden throne
this is the arsenal
while i stood listening, discreetly dumb
quietly, with reverance, in awe
in your flight
when sea-winds pierced our solitudes
among the mountains i wandered
the earth keeps some vibration going
simply speaking
up from the meadows rich with corn
beside a stricken field
my soul is a dark ploughed field

 



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