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Of happy colts. They canter, without making a sound, along the shores Of melting snow. TO THE EVENING STAR: CENTRAL MINNESOTA Under the water tower at the edge of town A hugh Airedale ponders a long ripple In the grass fields beyond. Miles off, a whole grove silently Flies up into the darkness. One light comes on in the sky, One lamp on the prairie. Beautiful daylight of the body, your hands carry seashells. West of this wide plain, Animals wilder than ours Come down from the green mountains in the darkness. Now they can sec you, they know The open meadows are safe. I WAS AFRAID OF DYING Once, I was afraid of dying In a field of dry weeds. But now, All day long I have been walking among damp fields, Trying to keep still, listening To insects that move patiently. Perhaps they are sampling the fresh dew that gathers slowly In empty snail shells And in the secret shelters of sparrow feathers fallen on the earth. 134 ...

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