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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo
Colección 8, Poema 9
IX.
THE
BATTLE-FIELD.
They
dropped
like
flakes,
they
dropped
like
stars,
Like
petals
from
a
rose,
When
suddenly
across
the
June
A
wind
with
fingers
goes.
They
perished
in
the
seamless
grass,
—
No
eye
could
find
the
place;
But
God
on
his
repealless
list
Can
summon
every
face.
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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo — C2 Inglés | Cuentana