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haiku poetry

where shall i find you
my mother taught me that every night
is there anybody there
the endless, foolish merriment of stars
tripping up, falling down
why do
give me
three days i heard them grieve when i lay dead
the darkness steals the forms of all the queens
while i stood listening, discreetly dumb
i think it just splendid
softly now the light of day

 



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