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type of poetry

be in me as the eternal moods
let us pity those who are better off than we are
all day to watch the blue wave curl and break
like him whose spirit in the blaze of noon
when the hours of day are numbered
candles toppling sideways in tomato cans
like eagles on up high
i am old and blind
i walk down the garden paths
why do you always stand there shivering
gloom
i know what you're going to say

 



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