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A Day Of Rest

(after W.H. Auden)

They had fled from him,
some for their lives from his sight,
had fled from his might
and now it felt only like an interim

as with his bloody big machines
he had turned against himself, trying to destroy his kind
and suddenly there was light that shines

naturally and no sign of him they could find
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Tuesday, May 27, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: animal
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