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Cyclops 321
The capricious blessings of the future
Are not made to die unfulfilled
Yet truth may give way to love where
The rose and repeated creation are exquisite and
Out of touch.
Under the darker edges of daylight
A citizen internationale sung in longing for morning
May wait for endless birdsong to begin
Looking out on treeless field of ash
The heron and the bride are wellknown
They walk the hills together and
Grace the high ceremony
With their absence.
The acorn and the plume define the mass.
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