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birthday poem

in the sphere
a flying word from here and there
i saw him once before
i have seen the proudest stars
i have heard them in the night
in the dark and peace of my final bed
along the banks
she must go back, she said
burly, dozing humble-bee
who will be naming the wind
night was black and drear
and as we walked the grass was faintly stirred
beautiful

 



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