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Ray Wilbur
Poems
1d
I feel the crisp of boundlessness
The dogwoods are red,
the redbuds are lunch,
Blackhaw unravels maroon,
the Sun is a charm borne of losses,
the crowned kinglet sings
a sound profoundly itself
a stormy midwinter, the flash and a bellow.
Written by
Ray Wilbur
30
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Joan LostWoods
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