User:Jules

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Revision as of 15:49, 2 November 2015 by Jules (talk | contribs)

I was the shadow of the waxwing slain
By the false azure in the window pane;
I was the smudge of ashen fluff–and I
Lived on, flew on, in the reflected sky.
And from the inside, too, I'd duplicate
Myself, my lamp, an apple on a plate:
Uncurtaining the night, I'd let dark glass
Hang all the furniture above the grass.
And how delightful when a fall of snow
Covered my glimpse of lawn and reached up so
As to make chair and bed exactly stand
Upon that snow, out in that crystal land!


GRADUATION STUFF