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Judith Wright - Late Spring
Work rating: Medium

The moon drained white by day 

lifts from the hill 

where the old pear-tree fallen in storm 

springs up in blossom still. 


Women believe in the moon: 

this branch I hold 

is not more white and still than she 

whose flower is ages old, 


and so I carry home 

flowers from the pear 

that makes such obstinate tokens still 

for fruit it cannot bear.
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