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Poem by David Herbert Lawrence
A yellow leaf from the darkness Hops like a frog before me. Why should I start and stand still? I was watching the woman that bore me Stretched in the brindled darkness Of the sick-room, rigid with will To die: and the quick leaf tore me Back to this rainy swill Of leaves and lamps and traffic mingled before me.
David Herbert Lawrence
David Herbert Lawrence's other poems:
English Poetry. E-mail firstname.lastname@example.org