The Murmur of This Poem
I would like you to listen, attentively
To the murmur of this poem, but
Ahh, it’s gone now, as if nothing happened
‘Cos, honestly, it wasn’t today’s morn
But last night, yes last night, before sleep
A heart, so gentle and pure
Like of winter rose in pristine December sky
I still remember, I think it was love
Ahh yes, the love you’d wish for---the murmur
Of this poem, flattered to its unknown grave
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