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Dead riches, dead hands, the moon Darkens, And I am lost in the beautiful white ruins Of America. AMERICAN WEDDING She dreamed long of waters. Inland today, she wakens On scraped knees, lost Among locust thorns. She gropes for The path backward, to The pillows of the sea. Bruised trillium Of wilderness, she May rest on briar leaves, As long as the wind cares to pause. Now she is going to learn How it is that animals Can save time: They sleep a whole season Of lamentation and snow, Without bothering to weep. A PRAYER TO ESCAPE FROM THE MARKET PLACE I renounce the blindness of the magazines. I want to lie down under a tree. This is the only duty that is not death. This is the everlasting happiness Of small winds. Suddenly, A pheasant flutters, and I turn 132 ...

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