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Fall of the Evening Star

Speak softly; sun going

Out of sight.

Come near me now.

Dear dying fall of wings as birdscomplain against the gathering dark…Exaggerate the green blood in grass;the music of leaves scraping space;

Multiply the stillness by one sound;by one syllable of your name…And all that is little is soon giant,all that is rare grows in common

To rest with my mouth on your mouthas somewhere a star

And the earth takes it softly, in natural love…Exactly as we take each other…and go to sleep…

Kenneth Patchen (December 13, 1911 – January 8, 1972) was an American poet and novelist. He experimented with different forms of writing and inc
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