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broken heart poem

glooms of the live-oaks
master of human destinies am i
from our hidden places
sweet with fern and rose
stand here by my side
in mournful numbers
if it
who is the runner in the skies
the darkness rolls upward
it was a tall young oysterman
uplifting, as the wind blew
a blue-black nubian plucking oranges
friend, whose smile has come to be

 



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