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modern poetry

we who stood
on and on
the poets tell
how wild, how witch-like weird that life should be
stir
a very remarkable history this is
to some the fat gods
this is the ship of pearl
passing through huddled and ugly walls
long has the summer sunlight shone
in mournful numbers
as a white candle
all those treasures that lie
a sky that has never known sun, moon or stars

 



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