CINQUAINS
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I know
Not these my hands
And yet I think there was
A woman like me once had hands
Like these.
THE WARNING
Just now,
Out of the strange
Still dusk...as strange, as still...
A white moth flew. Why am I grown
So cold?
MOON SHADOWS
Still as
On windless nights
The moon-cast shadows are,
So still will be my heart when I
Am dead.
NIAGARA
Seen on a Night in November
How frail
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