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The Borrowed Poem
To be a poet is a condition, not a profession.
Monday, February 16, 2009
End of Winter
When has my grief ever gotten
in the way of your pleasure?
End of Winter [excerpt]
Louise Glück
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a theme that keeps coming up
The Fall
For A.K. and Treckles.
Graves
so much depends
End of Winter
my thoughts go out to you, my Immortal Beloved,
To be loved means
one problem
And because it is my heart
-where -You -are
For A.K.
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About Me
Steve Grant
New York, NY
Be patient that I address you in a poem. There is no other fit medium.
View my complete profile
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