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Poem by Dora Sigerson Shorter Beware I closed my hands upon a moth And when I drew my palms apart, Instead of dusty, broken wings I found a bleeding human heart. I crushed my foot upon a worm That had my garden for its goal, But when I drew my foot aside I found a dying human soul. Dora Sigerson Shorter Dora Sigerson Shorter's other poems: 1215 Views |
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