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THE VISION
Folder:
2003 Poetry I have seen the stars
In their best hues
The moon looks
At me with reverent
Bowing as I raise my hands
Leaves tremble even
In the absence of the wind
In the stale of umbra--I lurk,
but I refuse to be seen
my breath is the fragrant
of the night as when
the clock ticks by midnight
hear a wolf’s cry
tomorrow--early dawn
hear the news
another name is missing
faceless body will be seen
