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The Auction Sale

Rating: 2.8

Within the great grey flapping tent
The damp crowd stood or stamped about;
And some came in, and some went out
To drink the moist November air;
None fainted, though a few looked spent
And eyed some empty unbought chair.
It was getting on. And all had meant
Not to go home with empty hands
But full of gain, at little cost,
Of mirror, vase, or vinaigrette.

Yet often, after certain sales,
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COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Brian 30 August 2019

I'd only known his war poems, such as Naming the Parts - they ring with authenticity.

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CATHERINE 08 March 2018

FASCINATING and wonderful.. I'd never heard of Henry Reed before this.

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