Houses stand stiffly next to their fences.
Let your eyes, last sparrows, flutter.
Bluebottles alight on your face.
Don't you, Kuno, feel the eternal mills -
The unfeeling one bores holes in your head.
Look once more at the moon, the mustard-pot murderer.
Evening
Alfred Lichtenstein
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Poem topics: feel, moon, head, eternal, face, stand, I love you, I miss you, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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