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Dark earth, there is another gone away, But she was not inclined to beg of you Relief from water falling or the storm. She was aware of scavengers in holes Of stone, she knew the loosened stones that fell Indifferently as pebbles plunging down a well And broke for the sake of nothing human souls. Earth, hide your face from her where dark is warm. She does not beg for anything, who knew The change of tone, the human hope gone gray. LAMENT FOR MY BROTHER ON A HAYRAKE Cool with the touch of autumn, waters break Out of the pump at dawn to clear my eyes; I leave the house, to face the sacrifice Of hay, the drag and death. By day, by moon, I have seen my younger brother wipe his face And heave his arm on steel. He need not pass Under the blade to waste his life and break; The hunching of the body is enough To violate his bones. That bright machine Strips the revolving earth of more than grass; Powered by the fire of summer, bundles fall Folded to die beside a burlap shroud; And so my broken brother may lie mown Out of the wasted fallows, winds return, Corn-yellow tassels of his hair blow down, The summer bear him sideways in a bale Of darkness to October's mow of cloud. SHE HID IN THE TREES FROM THE NURSES She stands between the trees and holds One hand in the other, still. Now far away the evening folds Around the siloes and the hill. 18 ...

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