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modern poetry

what spiteful chance steals unawares
musing, between the sunset and the dark
there was a time in former years
gloom
i have cast the world
brother, i am fire
do you hear the rain?
the body may confine
i heard the wind all day
shades of night were falling fast
melancholy days have come
i have heard them in the night
this ancient silver bowl of mine
dear wife

 



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