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Cimon

Poor men and strangers let them.

Field the heads of young Cimon.

And his crew as great drupels.

In their hearts Cimon.

Opened his fields.

 

Let them fold.

Slaves in the dark.

Centres of blackberries.

Those holes left.

By the fences and free blue.

Drupes, olive drupes, free fruit, white.

Skin, fruit-bright flesh, stone fruit, light.

Fruit, red peach, free.

Golden cavitation.

Posted 11/16/13
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