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Summer is waning from the gold and from the copper
and violet
of leaf fall in gardens, and clouds at twilight
that drown in their own blood.
And the garden empties, only a few stragglers,
a few…
Day and night—
Shivering, we wait in bitter day
For moonlit night,
For the caressing moon.
Quivering, we wait in angry night—
For the sunlit day,
For the warming sun.
Day and night—
We must loom…