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anniversary poem

there were three in the meadow by the brook
awful truths these be
i am a woman
the shadows of the ships
therefore i may not
i saw the archangels in my apple-tree last night
god
dear wife
my mother taught me that every night
it is true that you say the gods are more use to you than fairies
star-dust and vaporous light
noises that strive to tear

 



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