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New Left Review I/33, September-October 1965


P. A. Fernandez

Poems

Finally
we sat in haste
grading our thoughts and words
unburying the spent day
skull-clippers
picking hearts, whispering laughter.

A haunted light on sheets and walls
our beliefs furiously neglected
two broken fighters
held in four ruined walls.

Born for so many who want us,
we turn in exile to see
the night unfolding
the half of day that held
the place at peace.

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