NIGHT
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he night has cuteach from eachand curled the petalsback from the stalkand under it in crisp rows; under at an unfaltering pace,under till the rinds break,back till each bent leafis parted from its stalk; under at a grave pace,under till the leavesare bent backtill they drop upon earth,back till they are all broken. O night,you take the petalsof the roses in your hand,but leave the stark coreof the roseto perish on the branch.
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