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You walked away and with you went
The pent up grief
Of wind and storm-tossed solitudes.
Minted leaves, sheaves of ripened grain,
All scattered by vicissitudes.
I tossed pitiful, hard, dried husks-,
Worn shells of love’s once fruitful yield;
Now empty, shallow, broken flakes.
The glorious hopes of love
Lie spent upon the field.
Untrammeled beatings of a heart
Wild and free yet once filled with love-,
No questions asked; no quarters given-,
Just tossed aside like a useless, worn out glove.
The aching void has left its mark
Of learning on a tired soul.
Tormented, long the years have reaped their harvest
And the scattered leaves are once more whole.

– Circa 1935

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