Lost in t, I broke off a dark twig

        and lifted its y lips:

        maybe it he rain g,

        a cracked bell, or a torn .

        Somet seemed

        deep a to me, h,

        a s muffled by umns,

        by t he leaves.

        akening from t the hazel-sprig

        sang under my tos drifting fragrance

        climbed up through my sind

        as if suddenly ts I    behind

        cried out to me, t h my childhood---

        and I stopped, .
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