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Heat

O wind, rend open the heat,

cut apart the heat,

rend it to tatters.

 

Fruit cannot drop

through this thick air--

fruit cannot fall into heat

that presses up and blunts

the points of pears

and rounds the grapes.

 

Cut the heat--

plough through it,

turning it on either side

of your path.

h
Written by
Hilda Doolittle
1886-1961 / American
Lines·Words
13·53
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