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THE
AGONY IN THE GARDEN
The
ground so stony, like a thing that will always occur;
evening
so warm, as if the sky were a wing;
the
friends snoring, drunk with grief;
the
city so distant, like the miles between the sleepers;
the
paths so clean, like the grooves on a shell;
the
stream so empty the sea will not recognise it;
...
(For full text see
the Kindle ebook The
Nature of Things (Collected Poems) by Alan Marshfield)
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