Thursday, November 3, 2016

Helpless Valentine

First go and sweep the dead
Who have fallen in the night
And lie now along the hollows
And hillsides of the story
Into piles to be set aflame
Summer did her best
Swimming through every victory
Until the last dead crash
Came faster than youth she
Was beaten by the wind chill factor
On which beauty has no effect
No strength to defend herself except
Underground to go on raging working
Against all that is hard and hateful
And cannot help itself

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