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The Fruit I Looked At

In our neighborhood We had a tree Full of fruits I wished one to set my mind free; I was looking at one to pick Fresh and ripe But taken By a falcon demon type; Since then I am found To scratch To bite And to count the sailing cloud; In suffering, in pain They fall By dripping But the fruits take them as rain. To ameliorate the pang I drift And weep Yet I see no sign of lessening grief.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2016




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Book: Reflection on the Important Things