Email Poem

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Poem	Speak softly; sun going down Out of sight. Come near me now. Dear dying fall of wings as birds complain against the gathering dark... Exaggerate the green blood in grass; the music of leaves scraping space; Multiply the stillness by one sound; by one syllable of your name... And all that is little is soon giant, all that is rare grows in common beauty To rest with my mouth on your mouth as somewhere a star falls And the earth takes it softly, in natural love... Exactly as we take each other... and go to sleep...
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