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A window poem for Mary

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The window opens to the cliffedge the channel and Martinique the morning sea hard crinkled silver wind rough from a thundery sky. Down in the green garden a women hurries by in the dance of the wind Stops and cuts the flowers from a sturdy alamanda purses her lips and hurries on. Unobserved I watch her take the Two handfuls of soft yellow light into the house. The image lingers long after two sunsets.

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