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The Poem At The End Of The Walk
THE POEM AT THE END OF THE WALK
The poem at the end of the walk
Does not know
Whether or not it will come into being-
Why a poem now?
Because the pen is in my hand
And I have some minutes to wait
And the world outside
Has so much light and beauty,
And I am quiet inside
After the long walk
Before the day of work
Not tired.
poem
by
Shalom Freedman
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