A POEM
Ice in the spirit
Is but frozen tears
And bitterness
Is expectation killed.
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- Karl Keating
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When angels danced on heads of pins
The ways of men were means not ends;
They quarrel in low tide mud
Over scraps of rotten food;
They rest on fishhouse…
A workman asked at a village door,
“Have you a bed, a chair,
A fallen…
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