more a sheaf of wheat or a chest
pressed against a chest,
divine with sweat
there were simple things
a long girl loved daffodils
she kept her hopes in bowls
i've heard-- been told--
a little bairn chased a pheasant
into a nettle patch
cold water seizes the lungs
truths like torques close
'round the heart
i do not know what one does
only a rattling
seed-pod
which says
what's done
is done
my love
what's done
is done
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