Poems by Elizabeth Jennings

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Over the surging tides and the mountain kingdoms,
Nature teaches us our tongue again
I visited the place where we last met.
You are no longer young,
I keep my answers small and keep them near;
The radiance of the star that leans on me
We nailed the hands long ago,
When the gardener has gone this garden
At this particular time I have no one
Lying apart now, each in a separate bed,
Last night they came across the river and