February 18, 2013


by Muriel Rukeyser

The world is full of loss; bring, wind, my love,
       my home is where we make our meeting-place,
       and love whatever I shall touch and read
       within that face.

Lift, wind, my exile from my eyes;
        peace to look, life to listen and confess,
        freedom to find to find to find
        that nakedness.

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