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20 March 2003

Strongly the wind blows
and outside the house on the paving
two broken dove-eggs lie,
a newborn dead dove
so pink and hair- and featherless
and Sasja, the golden cocker spaniel, has a feast
do bark at the bakbakiris (bush-shrikes)
as if they are going to bring her more presents
that does fall out of the air
or maybe forever

she wants to drive them away from this yard
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Thursday, September 28, 2017
Topic(s) of this poem: war and peace
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