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The Poem Comes Unexpected
THE POEM COMES UNEXPECTED
The Poem comes unexpected
When I have been waiting for it.
It writes itself
And then demands correction.
It is gone over and over again
Until it sounds right
It is read finally
As something complete
Its final line redeeming its first.
The Poem is what it
Here it is
Now.
poem
by
Shalom Freedman
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